


A Moment In Time, A Reminder Of Hope

by an_awareness_awakens



Series: This Is A Revolution [1]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Angst, Badass Reader, Blood and Gore, Character Death, Childhood Sweethearts, Crossover, Dysfunctional Family, Established Relationship, F/M, Family Dynamics, Female Reader, Flashbacks, Fluff, Graphic Description, How Do I Tag, Hunger Games, Hurt/Comfort, I Don't Even Know, I Try My Best To Stick To Canon, I Went Overboard On Tags, I don't know Korean, I promise I'm trying, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm warning you, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Injury Recovery, Jeon Jungkook & Reader Are Best Friends, Kim Taehyung | V & Park Jimin are Best Friends, Medical Procedures, Medical Trauma, Mentor Kim Namjoon | RM, Mentor Min Yoongi | Suga, Minor Injuries, Oh Yeah They're From District 11, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Park Jimin (BTS) is Whipped, Park Jimin (BTS) is a Little Shit, Park Jimin (BTS) is a Sweetheart, Past Child Abuse, Permanent Injury, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Canon, Pre-Hunger Games, Pre-War, Reader-Insert, Romance, Serious Injuries, Smart Reader, Survival, Tags Are Hard, Tags Contain Spoilers, There's swearing too, Trauma, Tribute Reader, Triggers, Victor Bangtan Boys Ensemble, Violence, Yes I Used Jeongguk Instead Of Jungkook, but shit changes, duh - Freeform, healer reader, leave me alone, seriously, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:20:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 77,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24261229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/an_awareness_awakens/pseuds/an_awareness_awakens
Summary: “Now, as is mandatory, I must ask if anyone would like to volunteer to replace this lovely little girl here?”Normally, this would be met with silence. No one in District 11 ever volunteers. In fact, you don’t really think anyone can even remember it happening in recent history. Most think it’s an automatic death sentence coming from your District. And who would be willing to do that, really? They all care too much about their own survival, even at the cost of a little girl’s life. Quite pathetic, actually. But you guess that’s what the Capitol wants from its subjects.However, you’ve been waiting for this moment. You refuse to submit. You stand up straight and take a deep breath before he even finishes the words. You step as far forward as you can towards the rope to separate yourself from those around you. As he finishes you raise your hand without hesitation and project your voice loudly and confidently for all to hear.“I volunteer as Tribute!”
Relationships: Bangtan Boys Ensemble & Reader, Everyone & Reader, Original Character(s) & Reader, Park Jimin (BTS)/Reader
Series: This Is A Revolution [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1756144
Comments: 15
Kudos: 35





	1. Ground Zero

**Disclaimers:**

  * **I do not own or have any claim over BTS/Big Hit Entertainment or The Hunger Games.**
  * **I do not own or have any claim over the different photos, songs, or videos used in this story.**
  * **I do not own or have any claim over the strategy described in Chapter 7, and mentioned throughout the rest of the story. That plan was taken from the Film Theorists episodes on the topic on their YouTube channel.**
  * **I did a lot of research on both the universe and things like survival/medical tactics to make the information and plot in this story as accurate and believable as possible. However, I also do not own or have any claim over these things as well.**



* * *

**Short Summary:**

“Now, as is mandatory, I must ask if anyone would like to volunteer to replace this lovely little girl here?”

Normally, this would be met with silence. No one in District 11 ever volunteers. In fact, you don’t really think anyone can even remember it happening in recent history. Most think it’s an automatic death sentence coming from your District. And who would be willing to do that, really? They all care too much about their own survival, even at the cost of a little girl’s life. Quite pathetic, actually. But you guess that’s what the Capitol wants from its subjects.

However, you’ve been waiting for this moment. You refuse to submit. You stand up straight and take a deep breath before he even finishes the words. You step as far forward as you can towards the rope to separate yourself from those around you. As he finishes you raise your hand without hesitation and project your voice loudly and confidently for all to hear.

“I volunteer as Tribute!”

* * *

**Story Summary:**

In our hardest times, we focus on the memories that lift us up. Those scenes and those moments that comfort us. That give us hope and remind us of better days. It’s what we fight for. To get to those people again, to create those new moments to cherish. Though most of your life has been a fight for survival, you do have a few of these little gems that come to mind when you need them. Strangely enough, they almost all seem to revolve around one being. 

Your favorite person’s laugh, loud and free. How he looks at you and smiles blindingly, as if you’re his whole world. Those kisses that steal your breath away and make you dizzy, dissolving the world around you until it's just the two of you. The gentle touches filled with only care. When you can see nothing but love in his eyes, though you don’t know how it could all be for you. Where Jimin whispers the words “I love you” or “You’re beautiful” and you actually believe him. 

You want to spend the rest of your life with him. You always want to be around him. You want to be able to give those moments to him, and give him all of that love back in equal force. But when you’re separated, your goals shift. You’d die for him. You’d fight for him. And you’ll try your hardest to get back to him, despite not being the same person as before. 


	2. Of Sleepless Nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yet another sleepless night to put down in the books. Reaping time brings back horrors for all of you. It never gets any easier, but you still manage somehow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was in my head, and I figured it was finally time to share. I hope you enjoy. 
> 
> Please forgive my writing, I try my best. I only had me, myself, and I when it came to editing this story. I wrote almost the entirety of it in 1st person present tense as an OC insert, but thought a Reader insert would go over better. So if I missed anything, I apologize.
> 
> Want a more immersive reading experience? Use the google chrome extension InteractiveFics to replace things like Y/N with words and names of your choice: [https://chrome.google.com/webstore/detail/interactivefics/pcpjpdomcbnlkbghmchnjgeejpdlonli/related?hl=en](url)

**_Y/N’s POV_ **

The sound of petrifying screams wakes you with a start. Your eyes shoot open and you let out a small gasp before you completely freeze in your spot. Terror fills and paralyzes your body at the sheer horrifying sound of the scream. It doesn’t even sound human filled with that much desperation. It honestly sounds more like the cries of a tortured, dying, and cornered animal. 

But you only lie unmoving for a second. By the time the second scream starts to ring out, your mind has caught up with your body and you rush to sit up in bed. Turning to the side, you find what you know is the source of the screaming, Jimin. He lays there in a cold sweat, a tangled up mess in the sheets and screaming in his sleep. He had lost the blankets at some point during the night and had also managed to move a considerable distance towards the bottom of your huge bed. His hands are twisting and clawing at the white fabric, his body is flinging limbs wildly in an attempt to defend itself. There seems to be words mixed in with the screams, begging even, but it’s completely unintelligible. 

It’s a nightmare, which isn’t uncommon for him, especially nowadays. His time in the Games haunts him, like all Victors, and it just gets worse around Reaping time. Though you’re used to dealing with his nightmares and flashbacks, it doesn’t make it any easier or less terrifying. Every single time it shakes you to your core and fills you with a primal need to protect him from the world.

You throw off your side of the blankets and crawl over to the upper part of his side of the bed. Now above his head and leaning against the headboard you pull him up and hug him to your chest. This, of course, wakes him up. And that's when the real fight starts. His flinging limbs from a second ago have nothing on this. This is a pure fight for survival. Punching, kicking, clawing, anything that can possibly aid escape is now being thrown at you with shocking intensity. 

But you hold strong against his struggles, refusing to let go despite the injuries you’re gathering. And you begin reciting your familiar mantra, “You’re alright, Jimin. You’re not there. You’re not in the Arena or the Games. You’re home, in District 11. It’s me, Y/N. I’m here. Jiah and your eomma are here too. You’re safe. I won’t let anyone hurt you anymore-”

You keep going, repeating phrases and adding some to help comfort him. You keep talking, trying to distract him from whatever he’s hearing or seeing so you can bring him back to reality. Hopefully you’re able to cut through the haze he always describes it feeling like being surrounded in. “That’s it, you’re doing it. You’re doing such a good job, Jiminie. I’m so proud of you. You’re almost there. Just focus on my voice, and I promise it’ll get better. It’s not real. I’ll protect you. Just follow my voice-”

Most would think it a bad idea to hold him so tight during such a freak out. You might argue that it makes him feel even more trapped, or puts him in the exact same situation he's remembering right now that caused all this. He did say that most of the time during his flashbacks he experiences his final showdown with the last of the Career Tributes. They had ambushed him while he was sleeping and hadn't killed him immediately because they wanted to have some fun with him. Unfortunately for them, they underestimated the human instinct to survive, especially when cornered. In a panic and rush of adrenaline just to get out of there, Jimin had ended up fighting and killing them. Which won him his Game. He has always been a lot more in shape than most gave him credit for, his smaller size making it easy to overlook. So it's not that far out there to believe he could overpower them. 

That being said, you have learned its best to keep him in one place. It's just a bad idea to allow him to escape in such a haze. Plus, he said the physical contact and consistent talking helps him get out of it quicker. 

Slowly, but surely, it works. He begins to calm down. You don’t know how long he fights or how long you’ve been talking, but your throat hurts and your voice is getting a little hoarse. None of it matters though, all you care about is Jimin. Eventually his movements become weaker, before they stop altogether. He slumps back against you, panting harshly and his whole body shaking. His shouts, screams, and words of fear and insult melt into sobs. 

As you feel the tears start to hit your arms, you maneuver the both of you so he’s now facing you. It isn’t difficult with how weak his body is at the moment. You have to hold the both of you up as he tucks his head into your chest, howls increasing in intensity and volume. Hearing it makes you feel like your heart is breaking. They’re full body cries now and you just hug him tighter, trying to speak to him over the weeping, “You’re okay. You’re out of it now. You did so well. I’m so proud of you, baby. I love you so much. You’re alright. We’re fine, I promise-”

As the bawling eventually lowers into slight sniffs and whimpers, your voice lowers to a whisper too. Though you still don’t stop your wordflow. Your voice is probably shot at this point, but it’s something you can deal with later. 

He’s almost silent now, leaning heavily against you and hiding his face. You bend your head down and nudge your forehead against his gently, keeping it there and whispering. “You awake, babe? Or did you fall asleep?”

He sniffs and begins to turn his head, so you lift yours up a little bit. He peeks out at you and says, voice extremely hoarse and almost too quiet to hear, “No, I’m awake.”

You smile down at him, “There you are, handsome.”

He sniffs again and attempts to smile at you. He only succeeds in lifting the corners of his lips a little before they immediately fall back down again. There isn't truly any feeling behind it. It’s not very convincing, not that it’s supposed to be, but it’s the effort that counts. At least in your mind.

“Here I am.” He says as you begin to run your hands through his hair comfortingly. You know he loves that, as he often has the habit of doing it himself, especially when he’s stressed. He sighs and basically melts back into you. 

You sit there in silence for a little while, trying to calm down and enjoy each other's company through touch. He can probably hear your heart beating fast from where he’s laying, as you can also feel his. But neither of you say anything about it as the panicked beats subside eventually. 

As you stop combing your hands through his hair you let one glide down his cheek and under his chin, while the other goes to hold his hand. 

“Can you look at me, love?” You ask softly as your thumbs begin to rub light circles into his hand and cheek. 

He whines a little in protest at having to move, but follows your request anyway. You smile lovingly down at him and caress his face once, brushing some hair away in the process, “You know I love you, right?”

He nods faintly and replies warmly, though still quietly, “I love you too.”

“Good.” You say, giggling a bit. “Otherwise this would be a little awkward, don’t you think?”

Amusement sparks in his eyes and he lets out a little huff of agreement before it disappears. It’s replaced by the same tiredness that was there before. Not the one you get from no sleep or a long day’s work, but the kind gained from a long hard constant battle with one’s mind. It’s so there, so obvious. You feel a familiar sadness twinge within you at the sight of it, like it always does. You hate that he has to struggle so much. Out of everyone, he’s least to deserve such a fate. 

Shaking your head slightly to clear that train of thought, you begin to wipe away the tear tracks on his face with your sleeve. You hum a bit, before blending it into speech, “Hmm, what would you like to do now, Chim? Do you want to go back to sleep? Or would you like to stay up for a little bit?”

He’s quiet for a second before practically begging, “Can we stay up, please?”

You nod and kiss his forehead, squeezing his hand reassuringly, “Anything you want, sweetheart.”

“You-you don’t mind?” He asks, hesitantly.

“Of course not.” You say immediately. “How about this? Would you like to get up and have some tea for your throat? I know it's probably hurting right now.”

He thinks about it for a second and then nods, “You need some too.”

You laugh lightly and nod, so he did notice, “That I do darling, thank you for noticing.”

He smiles at you, this time a lot more genuine. 

“Well, up we go.” You say, kissing the tip of his nose quickly before you begin getting up. “I’m guessing you want to clean up a bit before you go out there?”

He nods and begins to follow you up, though at a lot slower pace. 

“Alright. Do you need my help, doll?”

A pause, then a shake of the head. 

“Okay, I think I’ll go start the tea then. You know how to get me if you need me, yeah?”

Another nod as he begins making his way to the bathroom. 

“Hey.” You call softly as you pause on your way out the door and look back at him. He stops and blinks slowly at you curiously. “You did good, honey. I’m proud of you.”

He blushes slightly and looks away, nodding his head. With that you let out a last little laugh as you leave the room, closing the door behind you. 

* * *

You lean back against the kitchen counter with a sigh as you wait for the tea to steep, running your hands through your hair. You think you’ve picked it up from Jimin after all these years. They do say that significant others start to mirror each other after a certain amount of time. Though the same can be said for any relationship in general, it is human nature after all. It's just usually a lot more noticeable when it comes to romantic relationships. 

Another near sleepless night to add to the list. Maybe you can convince him to take a nap with you later before you have to get ready for the Reaping. It just depends on how bad the nightmare was this time, he might not want to try and sleep again for a little while. Though being willing to leave his room in the first place gives you a little hope. Normally if it’s really bad he refuses to even leave the bed, wanting to stay attached to your side all night and listen to you talk so his mind doesn’t wander back to it all. 

You adjust your large button up shirt, which is actually Jimin’s, and check to see the damages of tonight's episode. You have a few red marks that were definitely going to bruise later. And there are some pretty nasty, bloody claw marks on your upper arms and legs that have already finished drying by now. You shift the shirt to cover it up as best you can, he didn’t seem to notice them earlier and you’d like to keep it that way. He’s probably already feeling guilty enough, he doesn’t need this added onto it. All in all, it hadn’t been too bad. 

You can clean them in the morning and cover them up till you can put healing cream on them back home. That shit from the Capitol is a godsend and honestly works numbers on any injury. It all should be mostly, if not all, healed by the time the Reaping rolls around, since they're just small wounds. And if you really need to you can cover up any of the remaining signs with makeup. You’re also very thankful you have access to Capitol makeup as well, though you’ve never done anything truly crazy with it like their citizens do. 

Thinking about this night’s episode, you’re briefly reminded of the one time you had let Jimin go during a flashback and frown at the thought. He had run out, into the snow no less, and you had spent almost the whole night searching for him. He had ended up collapsed, confused, still not very aware, and injured on some random street in town. You had managed to get him back home before anyone left to work at the crack of dawn. That one had taken a long time to come down and recover from. You had to take care of him for a few weeks through a cold, his twisted wrist, and a broken ankle as a result. It wasn’t bothersome at all, it had just been a rough time.

You remember he had felt so guilty and frustrated with himself, like he always does when he has panic attacks but on a stronger level that time. He just feels bad for making the rest of you deal with it and hates himself for seemingly not being able to function like a normal human being. Even though he logically knows that's not the case, and that he would do the same for you if the situation was reversed in a heartbeat, it doesn't help. It was one of those many moments you were so thankful for the other Victors helping you out so much. They had managed to help him through his emotional struggle far better than you seemed to. It did make sense, after all, they were the only ones that could truly understand what he was going through. 

You’re brought out of your thoughts by footsteps entering the kitchen. You stand up straight again and say as you turn around, “The tea is almost done, Min. I made your favorite-”

You stop as you see that it is not in fact Jimin that has entered the kitchen, but his mother and younger sister. Both look tired and stressed, but his mother’s eyes hold a bit of amusement and probably fondness at your immediate response. Jiah, meanwhile, is cuddling her pillow and looks on the verge of tears.

“Oh, Jiah…” You say softly. That is all it takes for her to run towards you. You bend down and quickly pull her into your arms. “Hey, it’s okay. Oppa is alright, I promise.”

She sniffs into your shoulder a bit before bringing her head up and wiping at her eyes. “Are you sure? It sounded bad.”

You sigh at the 12 year old’s response. “Yes, I’m sure. He’ll be down in a minute and you can see for yourself. And you know it always sounds bad.”

She nods and continues to try and get a hold of herself, making her way back to her mother’s side. You raise an eyebrow at her, “Would the two of you also like some tea, Mrs. Park?”

She smiles gratefully and nods, leading Jiah to sit down with her at the table. You sit in mostly silence after that, the room only filled with the noises of your breathing and the sounds of you making two more cups of tea. 

Just as you finish and begin setting the tea tray onto the table, Jimin quietly pads into the room. He looks a lot more himself now, his face clean and his hair combed through. Though it was still a little messy looking. His pjs are straightened out and aren’t sweat soaked anymore. And his attitude had brightened considerably, though not quite back to normal or even at the level of him faking being fine. Which you guess can be attributed to tiredness. You’re glad he hasn’t decided to fake it till he makes it this time around. You understand why he resorts to it a lot of the time, especially around others, but you hate seeing him like that just as much as when he breaks down.

He pauses as soon as he spots his family, expression immediately crumbling into one of guilt. He had probably realized his screaming had woken up the whole house. “I-I’m sorry.”

Yeah, there it was. That’s definitely what happened. You walk over to him and give him a hug, kissing his cheek, “It’s fine, Minnie. We don’t mind.”

He seems like he doesn’t believe you, looking over towards them worriedly. With your arms still draped around him you could feel him start to shake slightly again. You hold him a bit tighter and lean your head onto his shoulder, looking up at him. While he was hiding it well, you can see his eyes get a little teary with how close you were to him. You can practically feel the anxiety that was kicking up inside his body.

His mom, probably not noticing his panic or at least pretending she didn't, smiles and waves her hand in dismissal. “She’s right, Jimin. It’s perfectly alright.”

“Yeah.” Jiah pipes up, seeming far more bubbly than she had been a few minutes ago. “As long as you’re alright, we don’t care!”

Her smiling face drops into one of worry, “You are okay, right oppa?”

Jimin’s face falls and he immediately rushes over to assure her he’s fine. You and his mother laugh at that. He’s always felt the need to pamper her to death. He wants her to be the happiest child possible, and protect her from the harsh reality you live in. Well, as much as that’s possible in a world where the whole country watches the mass murder of children every year for entertainment.

You sigh and push the morbid thought away. Jimin and Jiah were already chattering their hearts out. You sit down to just observe with their mother. Looks like he’s gotten the distraction he had probably wanted. Maybe this isn't so bad after all. 

* * *

A while later you’re quietly chatting while Jiah sleeps leaning against her mother. The empty tea cups sit scattered around you, which everyone said they had enjoyed. Jimin had moved to sit down on your seat at one point, turning you around on his lap so you can hug him and tuck your head into the crook of his neck. Jimin has always been someone that needs a lot of physical contact in life, it’s almost always his first response to try and solve things. But it’s something that’s especially important when he isn’t feeling his best or if he’s just sick in general. It aids his recovery in leaps and bounds after a flashback, probably even more than constant talking does. Which says a lot since that’s the main thing that helps him during an attack.

You sigh into him and cuddle deeper against his chest as he speaks to his mother. You don’t even know what they’re discussing anymore or how long you’ve been here, it’s all just background noise by now as you start to doze off too. You feel his arms hug you closer in return as your eyes slip shut and your mind begins to space out even more. He’s so warm, and so comfy to lay on. And that’s not even mentioning just how calm and comforting his presence is. It always makes you feel so loved and safe, and he doesn’t even have to say or do anything. You had yet to experience that in life, even from your own parents. But that just made the fact that he could provide that for you all the more special. 

The sudden movement of your human pillow startles you, making you lift your head up to blink in question and confusion. How long had you spaced out? Had you fallen asleep on him? He coos down at you and smiles blindingly, seemingly finding your sleepy reaction cute. If you were more aware, you probably would have felt a bit annoyed at that. But then again, you find him absolutely adorable when he’s in this state too. So you really have no reason to be annoyed.

“Hello, beautiful.” He says. 

You smile tiredly back up at him, happy that he seems back to normal again, “Hello.”

Your voice sounds heavy and raspy, even to your own ears. You wonder how bad it sounds to the actually awake people in the room. He laughs at you, “I think it’s time for bed.”

“You sure?” You ask worriedly. “We can stay up... if you need to.”  
  


“Thank you, but I’m fine.” He responds reassuringly. You search his eyes, only finding honesty. “Really darling, you need sleep for the Reaping tomorrow.”

“Jiah?” You ask, not quite there enough to form the full sentence you wanted. But he seems to understand anyway.

He opens his mouth to reply before his mother cuts him off, “I’ve got her. You two can go back to bed.”

“But the dishes.” You say in argument, brows furrowing slightly. 

You can hear her scoff at you. “I can do those too. Honestly, I survived just fine before you came along. What do you think I do as a mother?”

You huff in amusement, letting your head fall back against Jimin’s chest. You can feel it vibrating as he laughs loudly. 

You feel him kiss your forehead. “Up we go, sweetheart. Hold tight.”

Without any warning other than that he stands up and begins carrying you back to your room with ease. 

* * *

He gently lays you down in bed before joining you, throwing the covers over the both of you. He starts running his hand down your face comfortingly. Neither of you even bothered looking at the time. It was way too late or early to be awake, no matter what the clock said. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay up?” You whisper.

He smiles at you. How can he be so sweet, even with everything he’s been through? This world doesn’t deserve him. Maybe that’s just your tired mind talking, but to be honest you think you would agree with that thought clear minded or not. 

He kisses your cheek lovingly, “ _Yes_ , love. I’m sure. I’ll be fine.” 

“... Okay.” You mumble.

“Okay.” He repeats as he cups your face in his hands. “Hey, guess what?”

“Hmm?” You hum in question.

“I love you.” He informs you, kissing the tip of your nose.

You huff in amusement. “Love you too.”

“Good.” He says, “Now come here. It’s time to sleep.”

With that you scoot over and lay your head on his chest as you wrap your arms around each other. It doesn’t take long for the darkness to swallow you again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I plan to update every Sunday from here on out. Can't wait to see you next week! Make sure to let me know your thoughts!


	3. Something's In The Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You don't want to admit it, so you carry on your day as normally as you can. Sadly, you're not one able to ignore your instincts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another week, here we go. We're still not to the main excitement, but we get more lovely character building. There is some OC stuff in here, but it can't really be avoided, sorry.
> 
> Want a more immersive reading experience? Use the google chrome extension InteractiveFics to replace things like Y/N with words and names of your choice: [https://chrome.google.com/webstore/detail/interactivefics/pcpjpdomcbnlkbghmchnjgeejpdlonli/related?hl=en](url)

**_Y/N’s POV_ **

You sigh as you close the door behind you, stepping out into the dawn light bathing Victor’s Village. You adjust the bag around your shoulder before starting the walk to town. You only manage to walk to the house next door before you're stopped by a soft call of your name. 

“Y/N!”

You turn to the source to find Taehyung sitting outside his house with Jeongguk. Normally you would wonder what they’re doing up so early. While they do tend to be early risers when given the free will to choose, unlike most people in the District, they rarely got up _this_ early. Normally you're only early risers because you’re forced to be. You’re made to work the fields from dawn to dusk most days, so it's not really a shocking development. Though they don’t personally have to deal with any of that since winning the Games, which could make it seem even more strange. 

All that being said, Reaping time is tough for all the Victors. They might not have slept much last night, if at all. Just like you didn’t. So you don’t really question it much. 

Taehyung has become a fantastic friend to Jimin since he moved here. They’re the same age, and have basically been inseparable since first meeting. Taehyung had won his Games years before Jimin’s had happened. He had been fairly young, and had won through his insane strategy. He’s that crazy kind of smart that literally no one else can pull off or follow at all. His plans are normally so out there that they somehow end up working. It’s definitely interesting to watch. He’d also been one of the public's favorite Tributes due to his odd personality and charm, not to mention his good looks and stunning voice. He’s a master at interacting with others, leaving every person he meets behind in a mess of awe and adoration. His ability to manipulate others and get anything he wants out of them is honestly kind of terrifying, but also admirable. He’s been a huge help through everything, and is the best person to help Jimin through flashbacks besides yourself.

Jeongguk was a completely different matter. He had won his Games at 12 by pure skill alone. His ability to learn is mind-blowing, and he had already been incredibly well rounded to begin with. So he’d gone into the Games being above average at basically everything, and extremely in shape on top of that. He’d won in a landslide by avoiding others for the most part and surviving on his own. He hadn’t stood out much personality wise because of how shy and withdrawn he was. He’d barely spoken the whole time, stumbling and stuttering through his words when he did. However, many had found that cute, especially paired with his bunny looks and smile. But cuteness never gets you far in the Games on it’s own. It’s an issue of literally all contestants being children. He’d seemed like quite the underdog for a long time, but got the chance to shock everyone quite a few times with his skills. 

He’d aged up well, mostly losing his bunny looks to be replaced by a rugged handsomeness. Though the bunny features are still there, they mostly just come out to play when he’s happy. He’s around your age, a little older than you actually. You’re both a few years behind Jimin and Tae, which makes you the youngest of your group. You’ve always connected with him well since you were the same age and have birthdays basically back to back. Your personalities and way of thinking are actually pretty similar too, so you understand each other well. Not to mention you can both relate to being the babies of the group. Besides Jimin, he was probably your best friend out of all of them. 

They had all 3 survived their Games well, though that’s probably due to the help of the older Victors. They’re amazing, and watch out for their Tributes as best they can. Not to mention they’re all brilliant in completely different categories of the Games, meaning that when they work together they can come up with quite the plan. Which has led to a lot of wins since they won their own Games, as most other Victors simply give up and don’t try after they get home. Sadly, or maybe luckily, your older Victors seemed to care too much for their own good. Though it had really been paying off in the long run, it probably made things a lot more difficult for them personally. It’s not healthy to get so attached to the kids you’re more often than not sending to their deaths for years on end. 

It was a little strange that it took all of you this long to get to know each other and bond. Sure, you went to school together and sometimes saw each other in the fields or out in the District. But for some reason you never really talked to each other until you had some sort of common ground with the Games. It was actually the case for all of your Victor friend group, weirdly enough. 

You pause your walk and wave to them, calling back, “Hey, guys.”

Tae gestures for you to come over and you follow his request. As you get closer, he looks you over calculatingly. “Rough night?”

You sigh, running your hand through your hair, “Yeah, though you probably already knew that.”

You had figured out fairly quickly that their houses were close enough that they could normally hear Jimin screaming in the middle of the night. Just like you could when they did too. Though they still have episodes, it’s less frequent than Jimin since they’ve had a little more time to deal with their issues. 

He nods in conformation. “It definitely sounded like it.”

“Mmm,” You hum, “I’d appreciate it if he didn’t know that.”

He shrugs in dismissal, and you know he won’t let Jimin know he could hear him, “I was awake anyway.”

You nod, understanding by now that it’s just that time of year. It’s also best not to talk about these things unless they bring it up. If he wants to tell you what he’s going through and talk it out, then he will. You think they all know by now that you’re here for them. While you’re definitely not their first choice, you have been able to help all of them through an attack at least once. Which you’re very proud of. 

You just don’t get to help much because they’d much rather get it from the other Victors. They’re the ones that understand everything far more, and it just makes them feel kind of bad when it's someone else doing it. It’s some fucked up form of guilt and shame that you hate seeing them deal with, but you get that that’s just how it works. It’s not like it hurts you that they don’t want your help. As long as you can assist them in any way at all, you’re happy. And if that’s standing back and letting the others handle it most of the time, then so be it. The only reason Jimin lets you help so much is because you've been together so long. 

He smiles, slapping Jeongguk on the shoulder, “Guk here kept me company though. So we’re both fine now, no need to worry.”

Guk just rolls his eyes at his antics, though he does smile and nod slightly in agreement. 

“Did you manage to get any sleep after?” He asks.

“Yeah.” You say, “Though it took me nearly falling asleep on him. He said he would be fine. He didn’t have any more nightmares, which is good.”

“That’s great.” Tae says cheerfully. 

“Are you going to check in with crazy old man Jillian?” Jeongguk asks, looking at the bag on your shoulder 

and then back up at you. 

“Yeah. Where else would I be going? Lord knows I can’t leave him alone for too long. He might burn down the house.” You say, rolling your eyes at both his and your comment. You don't get why everyone is so against the old man. But you all chuckle at the thought of what he might do on his own. Your suggestion really isn’t that far off, honestly. 

“You’ll be back later though, right?”

You nod, “Yeah, I’ll be back to help the Park’s get ready for the Reaping.”

“How are you guys doing with that one?” Taehyung asks.

“As well as can be expected.” You say, your shoulders dropping a little bit. “It’s Jiah’s first year and my last. So that’s that.”

You don’t need to mention the underlying anxiety you feel at the very thought of not being there to protect her on Reaping day anymore. But you can deal with that as it comes, you still have to make it through this year first. 

They nod in understanding. Good luck wishes aren’t really necessary. You know how everyone feels about the situation. Besides, no one wants to tempt fate with some unnecessary well wishes, just in case. 

“Well, I should get going. It was nice talking to you guys. We’ll all meet up to go to the Reaping together, yeah?” You ask as you start to walk backwards towards the road.

They both sound out in agreement, so you turn and wave back at them over your shoulder as you go on your way again. 

* * *

The door falls shut behind you as you drop your bag on the floor and begin slipping your shoes off. You’ve finally made it back to the house you share with Jillian. Though you split your time pretty evenly here and at the Park’s house. You normally spend your days working between the fields and helping Jillian here at home, while your nights are spent at Jimin’s. 

“Hey, old man!” You shout out, not looking up.

There’s a series of loud crashing sounds followed by cursing somewhere in the house. You laugh to yourself as you stand up straight again and begin walking through the house barefoot. It’s a small place filled to the brim with things. At first glance it seems a little cluttered and messy, but still cozy and comfortable looking. That’s what you get when you put two geniuses in a small space. Sure it may look unorganized to someone else, but you had everything exactly where you wanted it and would remember it was. You never dared to touch or move the other’s stuff without asking because you wouldn’t know where to find it when you needed it next. So naturally, things like books and plants are everywhere, making it obvious that it doubled as a workspace and a home. 

“You okay, Jillian?” You ask loudly.

You still can’t see him as you navigate, but you did hear him shout back at you, “God damn it, L/N! I told you not to do that.”

“How else are you supposed to know I’m here? You won’t hear me unless I make a ruckus.” You reply as you turn the corner into the back room. There he is on the floor, surrounded by various containers of herbs, spices, and flowers. “You okay, old man?”

He throws his hand away in dismissal, glaring at you. “I’m fine. And this is all your fault anyways.”

You close the gap between you and hold a hand out to help him up. He grumbles to himself under his breath, but still accepts your offer. You haul him up with ease, patting him on the shoulder once he’s steady, “There you go.”

You look down at the grumpy hunched over man with thin white hair. Old man Jillian is considered the town crazy here in District 11, for his seemingly unnecessary fascination with the Games. He’s also the town’s only healer. You’re currently in the storage room for all his supplied medicines from the Capitol, along with his homemade remedies from things collected from the fields. 

He’d adopted you off the streets when you were younger after he realized just how smart you were. Deciding then and there you would be his apprentice, and teaching you all he knew. Which included everything about the Games. Jillian is the oldest Victor you have here in District 11. He and his twin sister had been picked for his Games decades ago, and he had obviously been the only one to come back. He was currently the last of his generation in your District, too. Given that he had a lot better access to medical assistance from the Capitol, and his sheer stubbornness to survive. It isn’t that hard to imagine. He had moved out of Victor Village a long time ago, no one had really been brave enough to try and stop him. 

Ever since he won he's been obsessed with the Games. Studying it as much as he can. He taught you everything he knows so you can be prepared if you ever get picked. After all, it’s a likely reality. He’s taught you basic survival skills and the best way to use knives in secret. He questions and challenges your mind with strategies and scenarios to help you grow into a sharp analytical person. 

Most consider him insane and avoid him as much as possible, but you appreciate it. Not only did he take you in and give you a home, but he also prepared you for nearly anything and helped you become the person you are today. All because he saw your bright mind and thought it was a waste for it to go unused. You’re unbelievably grateful, and you’ve grown to care about him quite a lot. 

You shake the trip down memory lane out of your head. 

“What are you doing in here, Grandpa?” You ask him.

“Bah! Don’t call me that, you infant!” He snaps at you. You raise an eyebrow at him, unimpressed. “I was reorganizing since we just got some new stock.”

Sure, that was the only reason. You know that the both of you feel more relaxed when you spend time working and organizing things. It makes you feel useful and also helps you relieve your stress. Whether you got new stock or not, that’s probably the real reason he was doing things. He knows you both need it today.

“Need some help?” You ask, already picking up some of the jars and bottles to examine them. 

“Well since you’ve already started, why the fuck not.” He growls, throwing his arms up in annoyance.

You laugh. “Okay, asshole, calm down. Let's get to work then.”

“That was what I was doing before you showed up. Believe it or not, you brat!”

You flip him off over your shoulder as you climb up the ladder where you assume he had been earlier, and begin sorting things with a smile on your face.

* * *

You walk into the kitchen and set your freshly packed bag for the Reaping on the table. Jillian was moving throughout the kitchen, throwing together something for you to eat. 

“Are you ready for today?” He asks. 

You sigh and nod, running your hand through your hair, “Yeah. I'm thankful it’s my last year. I won't have to deal with this any more.”

He scoffs, “It's not over yet, kid. Don't forget that.”

“Trust me, I definitely haven't.” You say. “At least after I can just focus on the Parks. More specifically Jiah, instead of having to worry about both of us during the Reaping.”

“Do you feel ready?” He asks gruffly.

“Of course. You've prepared me for the possibilities for years.”

“Good.” He said. “As it should be.”

“As it should be.” You echo in agreement. 

You sit in silence for a few minutes before you clear my throat, “Listen, old man.”

“Hmm?” He hums in question. 

“I-” You sigh as you try to find the right words. “We don't know what will happen today. We never do. But whatever it is, I still want to say thank you. I would never have gotten this far without you.”

He paused for a second before sighing deeply, “I know, girl. I did it all for a reason. You deserve it. And thank you for putting up with a grumpy old man like me. I know I'm not the best company.”

You both chuckle a little at that. 

“That's definitely true.” You admit.

“Yah!” He shouts indignantly. “Enough of this sappy shit! Let's eat and then it's off with you, L/N!”

* * *

You sit in silence alone in the kitchen. Jillian had gone to make his rounds of the day, just to make sure everyone was well enough to make it through the Reaping. 

As you stare at the floor, far too deep into your head, you don’t want to admit that the air just feels off to you today. There’s an energy there, like a warning. It feels like today is going to be important. 

Some might call it some sort of weird 6th, perhaps one you’ve gotten from being a survivor for so long. Others might tell you that you’re paranoid and making something out of nothing, or that it’s just general anxiety that literally everyone has on Reaping day making your mind jump to the worst conclusions. But when it comes to your interpretation, you just refer to it as your instincts. 

After everything you’ve experienced in life, you’ve learned to trust your instincts. Humans in general have basic wiring in them to survive at all costs. It’s part of your history, and something that no matter how hard you try or how long you're desensitized to the world you started out in, you can’t get rid of. It’s saved you from death too many times for you to count. 

You’d like to pretend you aren’t familiar with the feeling it gives you. That electric combination of fear, desperation, and anxiety. Some people shut down as their fear response, others run, but it’s always woken you up, made you more aware than ever of the world around you. 

You’ve felt it several times throughout your life. That little hint every time before your father came home angry, drank himself into a frenzy, and beat either you or your mother. A scream that stopped you in your tracks the day your dad died in a field accident, or the steady crescendo the day your mother threw you out of the house and committed suicide. Even the soft and broken cry as your baby brother died in your arms. 

No, it was certainly something you were familiar with. The last times you had felt it were all centered around Jimin, strangely enough. You had never experienced it with anyone except you before, but it seems like he changes the rules of the world for everyone. It appeared the day of his Reaping, before the Careers attacked him, and even after he returned home and escaped during that one panic attack. 

It’s always right. You just prefer to pretend everything will be fine sometimes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll see you next week everyone, remember to let me know your thoughts!


	4. I Think I Found The One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and the Parks spend some quality time getting ready for the Reaping together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my lovely readers! We meet again! Thank you for sticking around so long, I know we still haven't reached the real juicy part yet, but I think these scenes are all important. 
> 
> Guys, we get a POV switch in this one. What!? 0.0
> 
> Want a more immersive reading experience? Use the google chrome extension InteractiveFics to replace things like Y/N with words and names of your choice: [https://chrome.google.com/webstore/detail/interactivefics/pcpjpdomcbnlkbghmchnjgeejpdlonli/related?hl=en](url)

**_Y/N’s POV_ **

You hum lightly as you wash Jiah’s hair gently in the bathroom. She absentmindedly played around in the water with her bubbles and a few small trinkets, but for the most part stayed pretty quiet. Her mother would carefully pull her limbs away just for enough time to scrub them clean before going on to the next. With the two of you working as one, you were quite the efficient team. Jiah was clean in no time, with little water wasted and ready for the next person. 

Though you didn’t necessarily have to conserve water like this anymore, due to having far easier access to it in Victor’s Village, you still liked to fall back on your old habits. No point in wasting your resources when it wasn’t necessary. 

“Alright, little one.” Mrs. Park says, “It’s time for my bath. Let Y/N dry you off so Jiminie and her can get you dressed.” 

“Won’t you help me pick out my outfit too, Eomma?” Jiah asks pleasantly. 

She runs a hand down the side of her face and gives her a soft smile. “Oh course, dear. I’ll be right out as quick as I can. Off you go now.”

“Okay.” She chirps happily, taking your hand to help her out of the tub. 

* * *

Jiah sits on her bed giggling at Jimin parading around in front of her as you brush through her wet hair behind her. He was randomly picking outfits from her closet and mock modeling them around the room on their hangers as you watched him, striking funny poses and making faces. Most pieces he put back, having grabbed them without the actual intent of using them, but the few that made it into the real line up with a simple shared look between the two of you were gently placed around the room so you could survey your options. 

As his mother came in and sat down on the bed beside you in her robe, you set the brush down to let Jiah’s hair dry a little on its own. 

“Well, we simply cannot choose from all these wonderful options.” She says as she looks around the room, “I believe a fashion show is in order.”

“Can I please?” Jiah yells excitedly, jumping up and down and clapping in excitement. 

“Of course.” Jimin says, falling back on the bed with an exhausted sigh. “You’ll look far better in them than I would.”

She jumps on top of him in a hug, causing him to let out a muffled groan, “That’s not true, oppa. You’re very pretty.”

“Pretty…” He mumbles under his breath, causing you to laugh. 

“Absolutely beautiful.” You tell him, and Jiah nods in conformation. 

“Spectacularly stunning.” Mrs. Park adds. 

Jimin looks at you in betrayal and Jiah laughs, “See, Minnie! I told you.”

“Not as pretty as you though.” He tells her, scooping her up and tickling her as she squirms in his arms.

“No…..n-no…. Opp-a….” She gasps out in between laughter. “I need to……. To…. d-do a….. Fashion s-show….”

He pauses in thought as she tries to catch her breath. With a defeated sigh he says, “I guess if you must.”

“I do.” She insists. 

“Well go on then.” He says with a wave of his hand. 

With that she bolts from his lap and back into the bathroom, grabbing the nearest outfit and letting the door slam shut behind her. 

* * *

“What about this one?” You ask Mrs. Park as you hold up the next dress to show her. She lays back on her bed across the room, where she’s combing her fingers gently through Jiah’s newly curled hair as she lays her head in her lap. 

“Mmm.” She hums in thought. “I haven’t worn that little number since I got together with their Appa.”

“Really, Eomma?” Jiah asks below her. 

“Really.” She smiles at her. “It was actually one of the dresses I wore on one of our dates. I don’t even think I’ll fit in it anymore, it was such a long time ago. I suppose I only keep it for sentimental reasons.”

“What’s sentimental mean?” Jiah prompts. 

“It means it’s important, sweetheart.” She tells her. “It’s something you have good memories with.” 

“Then you should wear it!” Jiah says. “It’ll make you happy!”

“Oh, I don’t know dear.” She tries to protest. Some of you know that even though it may have those good memories there, it might even make her upset instead of happy. But you can't really tell Jiah that. 

“At least try it on.” You request at the hopeful look on Jiah’s face. 

With a glance at the both of you, she sighs wistfully, “Alright. Let’s try it.” 

The smile on her face when she looked in the mirror told us all that it was the one. 

“You look beautiful, Eomma.” Jimin says from the doorway.

* * *

You laugh at Jimin from across the room. 

“That’s not how you tie a tie, dear.” 

He huffs in annoyance. “Well how do you tie it then? I don’t get it.” 

You push yourself off the seat and walk over to him. Grabbing his shoulders to turn him towards you gently, you untie it and begin doing it yourself. You had seen your mother do it plenty of times with your father, and Jillian often needed help with it now in his old age as well. It was like second nature to you at this point. 

The room is quiet as you work, and you could feel his gaze on you intensely. Your eyes flick up to meet his and you see nothing but love in them. You don’t know how something as simple as tieing a tie for him could render such a response, but who are you to judge? 

“Are you watching?” You ask him.

“You.” He says quietly. 

“I meant are you watching my hands.” You correct. “So you’ll learn how to do it on your own next time.”

“Hmm…” He hums. “Why would I need to learn when I have you here to help me?”

You roll your eyes at him fondly. “You wouldn’t be able to tie your shoes without me, Park Jimin.”

“Maybe not.” He agrees, before leaning forward to kiss you softly. 

How something so basic had turned into something so intimate, you’ll never know. 

When you step back and let him look in the mirror, he just groans out, “This isn't the one.”

You let out a laugh and roll your eyes as you move on to yet another outfit. “Only you would take this long getting ready, love.”

* * *

“Let me help.” You hear a voice say behind you as Jimin steps closer. 

Normally you would give him a look and tell him that you were capable of washing yourself, but the look in his eyes silenced you. He wanted to do this, and you couldn’t tell him no. 

With a shallow nod, he began wetting your hair to wash it. As his fingers comb over your scalp gently, you think about how comforting it feels.

Letting someone else take care of you like this was always a vulnerable thing for you. The only time you remembered experiencing such a thing was rarely as a child. Your family always expected you to fend for yourself though, so it didn’t happen often. Besides, it’s a different kind of vulnerability when you’re a kid and don’t know any better, letting your mother take care of you because it's the only way you’ll get by in the world. 

As you got older, the thought of it was unimaginable. Jillian would never do such a thing, the only instance that came close was if he ever dressed your wounds, and even then he normally let you do that yourself in an attempt to learn and practice medicine. 

No, not only was taking a bath in general a defenseless experience for most, but it specifically made you feel exposed because you didn’t bathe in front of others. Hell, you try not to show a lot of skin period in front of others that you don’t trust. You had far too many scars that you’d like to keep personal for one, and you don’t really trust anyone enough to see you in that state. Not to mention the fact that you in general shun physical contact because far too many people have hurt you in life. A small darker part of you also realised how easy it would be for someone to hurt or even kill you in this state, and that in and of itself put you on edge. But Jimin changed that. He’s the only one you’d let see you like this. 

As he finishes washing your hair and moves on to your body, you can’t help but dwell on just how intimate and domestic this feels to you. There’s no sex or alterier motive involved at all, he just simply wanted to take care of you. Suddenly you might be able to understand the instance with the tie earlier. Maybe that meant something similar to him. 

* * *

**_Jimin’s POV_ **

I watch Y/N from the bed as she buzzes around the room trying to get ready for the Reaping. She’s just got out of the bath and is walking around in her underwear while trying to dry her hair. Her skin is still a little glossy from the water, giving it an even more beautiful look than normal. The faint faded scars that decorate her body are in clear view. There really are a lot of them, but their slightly lighter coloring is so close to the color of her normal unmarred skin that you can’t really notice them unless you’re looking for them, or if you already know they’re there. She had told me the stories behind most of them, but she likes to keep it pretty vague some of the time. I don’t really blame her. I have a hard time talking about my time in the Arena. She doesn’t have to share the full extent of her hardships with me until she’s ready. It’s a nice understanding we have between the two of us when it comes to these kinds of things. 

I feel a slight twinge of sadness and guilt as I see the marks covering her body from the last few sleepless nights, and not the good kind. They’re slight, almost completely healed and unnoticable. But to me they might as well be a neon glowing sign showcasing how much I’ve hurt her, despite not meaning to or realizing it at the time. I understand why she keeps quiet about it, neither of us really want to address it, but it still makes me feel horrible. 

She’s humming to herself while running a comb through her hair. I think every part of her is stunning, but her hair has always been one of my more favored features. It’s such a rich mixture of different shades of her natural color, a result of a wide variety of exposure to the sun’s rays. The colors are so similar to one another and blend so well into each other that it’s impossible to decide if her hair leans more towards one color than the other. Over the years I’ve noticed that the cleaner her hair is the lighter the shade it is, while the dirtier it is the darker shade it seemed. And the more time she spends in the sun, the brighter and more apparent the colors seem to get. 

Her eyes, though I couldn’t see them now, I know are a lighter shade with darker specks mixed in. They’re my favorite thing about her. They always look so sharp and calculating, like they could see through you to your very soul. Her gaze is always so intense, I swear she could get anything she wants out of anyone if she just stares them down long enough. It really makes me wonder sometimes how most people she meets don’t notice just how smart she is with eyes like those. She has a brilliant mind, even if she rarely shows it. She can even give Namjoon a run for his money if she cares enough to put in the effort.

She could be so fierce. When she cared about something strongly, there was nothing that could shake her opinion or resolve to complete a task. When she argued, she was undeniable, a true force to be reckoned with. When she fought back, she fought hard, as if her very life was on the line. She loved intensely, felt emotions almost to an extreme, and didn’t see the point in hiding them even when she chose to push them to the side. She often spoke her mind without fear of consequences, even though she knew when to step back from a battle she couldn’t win. And she definitely wasn’t afraid to talk circles around someone and showcase her intelligence should the situation call for it. 

They always say the eyes are the window to the soul. Her’s are always so open and expressive, it’s easy to tell how she feels if you know her well enough. Though I have seen them look cold and closed off when she speaks with someone she doesn’t like or views as a threat. 

Her whole personality is bright and warm. She’s great at comforting others and making them feel protected because of that, and the fact that she often never lets her own emotions on the situation show or get in the way. No matter how far into her head she goes or how analytical she becomes, she always cares about those around her. It’s something I truly love about her. 

She’d come back to help my family and I get ready for the Reaping today, having spent the earlier part of the day with her mentor. It’s an important time that we all cherish, because you never know if one of you might be picked to enter the Games this time around. Which we definitely figured out the year my name was drawn, which was what really solidified the importance of the tradition for us. So spending time with one another and enjoying each other’s company for maybe the last time is important. And she really is already part of the family, so she’s definitely welcome, has been for years. 

She’d decided she would be the last to get ready, putting everyone else first. It isn't out of the ordinary behavior for her. She believes that if she’s a guest in our house, our needs should be put ahead of hers. Besides, she always puts taking care of others first before herself. Whether she truly likes the person or not. It was a bit baffling, the times I’ve seen her comfort random strangers she happens to pass by. Or when she decides to treat the people who treated her with such disgust on the streets with forgiveness and kindness. It’s something I like about her, even if it does get frustrating at times. 

How did I get someone like her to be mine? How did she put up with me with an unbelievable amount of care and patience, especially after my Games? For a long time I had just seemed like that annoying boy that wouldn't leave her alone. Yet when I fell in love with her, instead of resentment, she responded with an equal amount of love back. She’s so beautiful, and an amazing person. Someone as broken as me doesn't deserve as wonderful a person as her by their side.

I get up and walk across the room to hug her from behind. She sighs and leans back into my embrace, pausing in the process of putting her earrings on for a moment. I decide to voice some of my thoughts.

“How did I get so lucky to have you?” I ask, kissing the side of her head.

She laughs at me. “Well, you were pretty stubborn about being friends. Plus, all the food totally helped.”

I laugh at the memory. I had always been fascinated by her, even when she lived on the streets. I’m from one of the wealthier families in the District, and even when everyone told me to just ignore her, I simply couldn’t. I had tried to talk to her every chance I got, I even snuck her food and clothes often. My father had hated it before he died, but my mother had always thought it was cute. 

After the old man took her in, it had given me an even better excuse to spend more time around her. I may have even intentionally injured myself or simply not avoided getting hurt when I could have a few times just as an excuse to see her again. Her and my mother really tore me a new one when they noticed that one. I thought it made sense when I was younger but now I just look back and think it’s kind of funny, one of those dumb things we do as kids. 

We had ended up together before my name was even drawn in the Reaping. I was afraid when I got back that she wouldn't want to deal with me any more. After all, I was now just a cracked shell of the person I used to be, weighed down by the burden of survivors guilt and haunted by everything I had done in the Games. But she had remained by my side, and helped put me back together, despite everything I threw at her. And believe me, I had tried to push her away. In my twisted mind at the time, I thought it would be the best thing for her to just leave me. I had never been more glad she was as stubborn as her mentor than in those times. 

“I suppose that might be true. It may sound familiar.” I reply in amusement.

“Oh really?” She asks brightly. 

I nod as I rest my head on her shoulder and lean my face into her hair, breathing her in. I love when she takes the opportunity to use the fancy soaps and perfumes I get from the Capitol. I also love when she gives me the chance to buy her clothing and makeup from there too. All of our wardrobes have gotten considerably better since I’d won my Games. She looked even more breathtaking dressed up and in makeup than she already did, though I love her either way. Her natural look was just as enjoyable, but it was just something special when I saw her dressed to the nines since she rarely does it. 

Speaking of clothes I look back at the outfit she had set up on the bed earlier. She had a set of gold heels laying on top of a non-metallic colored dress. It was a simple cut, one that fit her body type in the most flattering way possible. With just the right amount of tighter bodycon points and flowy fabric on others to seem like it was made for her and her alone. The fabric was also made in the color and pattern she looked best in, with her favorite neckline, and a slight glossy tint to it all. It really had been the perfect purchase. I knew it would look absolutely stunning on her, especially with the gold earrings and hair barrette to go with it. 

It would still mostly fit in with the rest of the District’s clothing. Our District was a wide cross of cultures from the world before, our clothing consisting of many bright colors, materials, and patterns. It would just be on the fancier side of clothing compared to those around her. Better quality if you will, despite it in general matching the look of the other pieces on the people around it. But not quite at the level of us Victors, as we embrace the Capitol clothing a bit more since we had better access to it. We had all won fairly recently anyways, so it was sort of expected of us to dress that way. We need to showcase our riches as a reminder of our “accomplishment” and the way our world functions. 

The best part was that our outfits sort of matched. I currently had on white pants, shoes, and a shirt. The shoes had a solid black line at the bottom and the shirt was loose and filled with flowers that coincided with her dress. I also had on a gold choker with a long chain necklace attached to it and some simple gold earrings. My makeup was already done as well. 

“Will you help me put my hair up, love?” She asks, breaking me out of my musings. I nod to her and begin working, pinning her hair up into a messy updo that worked well with her natural hair. I had always loved beautiful and material things. Clothing, hair, makeup, and beauty products in general had been a big focus of mine now that I had the money to buy them, much like my best friend Taehyung. I place the decorative gold barrette at the top of the bundle before turning her around to face me. 

“You look breathtaking, sweetheart.” I inform her as she blinks up at me through her eyelashes. 

“I haven’t even got my dress on yet.” She informs me.

“Doesn’t mean it isn’t true.” I say, giving her a quick peck. “But I think I know something that will make it even better.”

“And what’s that?” She asks curiously.

I reach into my pocket and pull out the gift I had been waiting to give her for a while now. It was a beautiful and intricate oval shaped gold locket on a gold chain. 

“Jiminie?” She asks breathlessly, shock clearly written on her face. 

I smile down at her, “I wanted to give you this, so you’ll always have a part of me with you.”

I open the locket to show her. Inside there is a picture of me dressed up in fancy Capitol clothing from a photoshoot I had done not long ago, as modeling was the hobby I had picked up after my Games. My hair had been silver then and I was wearing a high neck black button up shirt with black, white, and gray lace around the neckline. Over that you could see my black blazer with gray and white dot and line patterns on it just at the edges of the photo. My face was blank, if not a little curious looking, and turned slightly off to the side as I looked off camera. I had different types of black earrings hanging from both ears. The frame around the photo was in the shape of a heart, while the picture itself had a slight grainy film look over the top of it. Which made it look a little more older styled. 

And on the other side, the part that opens up, there was a compass etched into the gold metal. She slowly runs her fingers around the edge in awe. 

“The compass is there because no matter what, we always seem to end up finding each other in life. No matter how many times we’re separated or for whatever reason, we keep meeting up again. It’s to show that we’ll always be able to be together again, no matter how difficult things get.”

She nods and takes it gently out of my hands, beginning to examine it more. 

I shift a little on my feet nervously, “Do you like it?”

“Like it?” She asks, looking up at me. I could see tears forming in her eyes, and panic immediately shot through me. Oh no, maybe she hated it. Maybe she-

Before I could fall too quickly down that rabbit hole of a thought process she says, her voice breaking slightly, “Jimin, I love it. Thank you.”

And with that she throws her arms around me and pulls me down into a passionate kiss. I don’t hesitate to return it, my very soul singing in happiness. She loves it. Of course I had hoped she would, but I still had a small part of me that worried about the what ifs. 

She pulls away, wiping at the tears that had fallen down her face and giving a watery laugh, “You’re lucky I haven’t put makeup on, you jerk! I would have had to redo it all.”

I laugh at her, “Lucky me then.”

“Indeed.” She said, smiling up at me. “I love you, Chim.”

“And I love you, Y/N.” I respond. “Want me to put it on you?”

She nods, hands me the locket, and then turns away to face the mirror. I carefully put it around her neck and clasp it in the back. I meet her eyes in the mirror in front of her. 

“There we go.” I say. “It’s perfect.”

She laughs, “Yes, it is Minnie. Yes it is.”

“Want to know something else?” I ask.

“What?” She asks, raising an eyebrow.

I pull out the second necklace. It was the same style and design as her’s, but this one was silver and had a picture of her on the inside. It was a really cute natural looking photo I had taken of her while she was sleeping one morning. She was tangled up in our sheets, her hair spread out like a fan around her head and rays of sunlight peeking in from the window to shower her in light. Her face was completely relaxed, void of any lines or stresses that might be on it during the day time. Everything about it looked soft and unequivocally beautiful, like a subtle masterpiece or a work of art. It was one of my favorites, seeing how peaceful, young, and innocent she seemed at that moment. Everytime I looked at it it seemed to calm me down, so I figured it would be perfect for the locket. 

“We’ll match!” I say excitedly. 

She laughs, “We’re going to look even more like a cringey couple now. They already tell us we act so sweet around each other that it almost makes them sick.”

I huffed in fake indignation, “I see nothing wrong with that.”

She smiles at me, “Me either.”

I smile at her one last time before I nod towards the outfit on the bed, “Now come on, let’s put your dress and makeup on.”

“Alright.” She said, letting me bring her hands up to kiss them before I drag her away. My whole world seems to have gotten a lot brighter.

And yet, my mind still found a reason to wonder to the special little box I had hidden in a drawer merely feet away. After the Reaping, I tell myself. Then I really will make her the one I want to spend the rest of my life with. 

* * *

**_Y/N’s POV_ **

You spin around with Jiah, a light sort of happiness filling you as her giggles ring through the air. She had seemed especially nervous through this whole process, and it finally got to the point where you attempted to distract her from the looming event in a chance at cheering her up. Thus leading to you and Jimin dancing with her in the middle of Victor Village while waiting for the others to join you. Mrs. Park watches you with a fond smile a few steps away so she can avoid participating. 

You quickly switched her off to Jimin, who doesn’t hesitate to bring her into his arms and drop her into a dip, which causes her to squeal in delight. While it is a very serious day and all of you have dark thoughts on your minds, you think it's important to have brighter moments like this. How else can you get through it? 

It’s something the Park family does well, since the two children are literally some of the brightest people on the planet. But sadly, most others dislike or even look down on them when they show off their shining behavior. It makes sense, you guess, that they would both hate them for seemingly not taking things seriously and that they have the ability to laugh so freely at times like these. But what they don’t understand is that none of that is true. They feel the same way about things as everyone else, they just don’t see the point in focusing on the bad things. If your family risks being torn apart at any moment, why not have as much fun as you can while you can? Your world can be seriously brutal and depressing, but don’t let it swallow you whole. You’re worth more than that.

Living with Jillian has taught you that you should always be prepared, accept all possibilities, and be confident in both your abilities and just how strong the human instinct to survive actually is. And being around the Parks has taught you to find the joy and beauty in life, even when most others don’t see it. 

“Now you two!” Jiah demands as Jimin lets her go and she steps back a little.

Your eyes meet and you smile at each other. You give a little shrug, who are you to tell her no. He laughs and grabs your hands. You spin around for a few seconds, laughing at each other. You remember when you used to dance often, before his Games. You’d dance with old music, or make your own. It happened all the time, in groups or when it was just you. He loved dancing, both with others and by himself. It was a way to have fun and express himself. He used to sing just as much as he danced too. 

You simply hadn’t done either much, if at all, after he’d come back home. You don’t really know why, and you miss it, but you want him to set his own pace and make his own rules. You can’t expect him to be the same person he was, because that simply isn’t the case. You just have to figure things out together. And if that means no fun dancing or listening to his angelic singing, then so be it. You don’t know if you would want to do those things after going through that either. 

Suddenly he spins you under his arm, still holding your hands so he can wrap his arms around you and hold you to his chest. Without hesitation he pulled you into a kiss, and both of your eyes slipped closed. 

It was slow and gentle, but filled to the brim with happiness and love. You didn’t need him to voice his thoughts, nor did he need you to say yours. You could feel everything through this simple act. And it was something special, a moment to cherish. You don’t get to steal those away from the universe often, but that just makes them mean an unimaginable amount more.

“Whoa! I didn’t know we were going to that kind of show!” Someone shouts at you from behind, accompanied by a wolf whistle. You pull apart to look over as assorted whooping and laughs fill the air. 

The rest of the Victors in your group had all arrived while you were distracted, dressed in an assortment of colors and patterns. Their looks, like the rest of yours, weren’t quite Capitol level. They just look like slightly fancier clothing of what you might already see here in District 11. 

“Hi, oppas!” You call, letting go of Jimin with one hand to wave at them. You get several calls of hello and waves back, you even think Hoseok might have thrown a heart in there. You laugh at their antics, sometimes you wonder how you’re the youngest out of all of you. You briefly remember when you were first trying to learn their culture and language and remember how long it took them to not be embarrassed and be okay with you referring to them all as oppa. It confused Jiah for a while why she could call them that and you couldn't when you were younger than them. It was just a matter of what everyone was comfortable with, it didn't bother you at all. It is something you find amusing and slightly adorable now though. 

“I guess we’re ready to go then?” Jimin asks, sounding amused, but not really looking embarrassed about being caught and teased like this. In fact, the look on his face could probably be described as smug or proud. He receives nods from everyone, “Alright then. Let’s go.”

And with that, you’re on your way. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well wasn't that just some of the most wholesome things I've ever written? I hope you liked it, please let me know what you think and I'll see you next time!


	5. You Reap What You Sow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your last Reaping is finally here, and it does not go as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, my loves! I'm so excited, we're finally getting into the exciting stuff! No chopped up scenes in this one, it's all one shot.
> 
> Want a more immersive reading experience? Use the google chrome extension InteractiveFics to replace things like Y/N with words and names of your choice: [https://chrome.google.com/webstore/detail/interactivefics/pcpjpdomcbnlkbghmchnjgeejpdlonli/related?hl=en](url)

**_Y/N’s POV_ **

The town square is a wide open space, surrounded by assorted shops and government buildings. Normally it’s filled with all sorts of colors, noises, stands, and people going about their day. It usually serves as a marketplace for your citizens, as well as being the area where most big celebrations are held. Now though, it looks almost empty, as you are some of the first people here. They like the Victors to show up early, and it’s just easier to all go together. Besides, when you get here early enough you get the best spots both in the Reaping member crowd and the general audience. 

A stage is set up in front of the main Justice Building, with steps on each side leading up to it. On stage are several chairs separated in sections. Nine chairs are grouped together on the far left side, right in front of the boys section. Those are for the current Victors, where Jillian and the boys would be sitting. Also the other male Victor Chaff, though he doesn’t really talk to the rest of them much. He’s much like Jillian in that he prefers to be by himself. But they are the two oldest Victors by a long shot, so you guess it makes sense. 

You remember briefly when there used to be a female Victor that sat on the far right side of the stage in front of the girls section, but she had died a few years ago. Her name was Seeder, you remember trying to help Jillian treat her for a serious case of pneumonia. You simply hadn’t had enough resources to fix things, even with your access to the Capitol. And she hadn’t been one of the public’s favorite Victors either, which meant no special treatment or help from their doctors. You had tried your best, but she simply didn’t want to fight anymore. It was always hard to lose a patient, but if they don’t want to go on anymore there really isn’t anything you can do. 

You shake your head to clear that thought process. You don’t need that in your head, you need to focus on the here and now.

In the middle of the stage is a chair currently inhabited by District 11’s escort, Sven Nils. His hair, makeup, and clothing are blinding in practically all shades of green. It’s a slightly stringy outfit that reminds you a lot of vines. He always does seem to try to dress appropriately for your District, which provides everything agricultural for the Capitol. So it’s always very plant or earth tone based. He actually seems to be happy to represent your District, though most in his position would dream of being upgraded to a higher one. He is always in a good mood, and you really do have to give him points for trying. He tries to be as understanding, positive, and helpful as possible, though a lot of people seem to take it the wrong way. You can’t be mad at him for that and really appreciate his effort. 

And on the right side of the stage is where the mayor would sit, but right now he seems to be running around everywhere trying to make sure everything is in order. Which isn’t anything shocking. Every District wants to make a good impression and look as presentable as possible. You don’t know how well it works when you are obviously one of the poorest Districts there are, but you guess it's the thought that counts. 

In front of the stage is a giant roped off section for all the Reaping children. It isn’t nearly big enough for the amount of people that are going to show up, but that’s nothing new. It’s always really cramped in there. There’s a walkway roped off in the center for the Tributes to walk down once their names are drawn. That walkway split the rope sections into the boys and girls sides. Boys on the left, and girls on the right. Each section has several blocked areas for each age group. You were going to stand in the front section, where all of the 18 year olds go. The sections behind you would descend by age, leaving Jiah and the rest of the 12 year olds in the very last section. 

You always thought it was a bit strange that you did it that way. At the very least having it go from youngest to oldest the cameras would be able to see everyone better. But maybe it was something more along the lines of the oldest children are more likely to get picked, so they should be the more easily accessible. After all, you are the ones that often take responsibility for your families and enter your names in multiple times in a desperate attempt to provide for them. 

Around the Reaping area, the rest of the District members are allowed to gather. As is customary, the family members of the Reaping participants get first dibs. Once the town square is full they begin filling the nearby streets, where there are screens showing what’s happening here. Everyone is required to come watch, despite the health issues they may have or their desire to be anywhere but here. Another power play by your lovely government. The whole square is filled with bright banners and screens. And there are camera crews everywhere, on the ground, the stage, and even the surrounding buildings’ roofs. 

After you and Jiah get your blood drawn to identify yourselves and check in you pull her to the side once you pass the table. 

You make any last minute adjustments to her appearance, smoothing down her hair and straightening out her dress. She’s wearing a simple vintage looking white dress made out of a lot of sheer material and lace. It looks pretty and flowy, which she enjoys thoroughly. She’s wearing simple flats and a white ribbon tied in a bow in her hair to match. Her hair is in a high ponytail, where you had curled it from there. She had some light makeup on as well, but nothing too serious. She really did enjoy the opportunity to dress up and feel pretty, just like you did. So you take that opportunity whenever you can, normally together too. 

“There we go, little bear.” You say. “You look positively lovely. You’re going to stun everyone. They’re just going to want to focus the cameras on you.”

She giggles at you, though you can see her eyes watering a little. 

“Come here.” You say, opening your arms. You give her one last hug, kissing her forehead before letting go. 

“Y/N.” She whispers. “I’m scared.”

You smile at her, cupping her face in your hands. “I know, honey. It’s okay to be scared. We all are. But I promise we won’t let anything happen to you, okay? I’ll protect you.”

You feel a tug at your heart as you tell her the same words you often tell Jimin. Though you know it’s not completely true, you resolved yourself a long time ago to try your damnedest to make it a fact. When you see her face relax at the saying, just like her brother's does, it makes your heart soar just a little bit. 

“Get a move on!” A nearby Peacekeeper snaps at you as he takes a menacing step forward, startling the both of you. You hadn’t realized any of them were that close.

The effect on you is instant as you stand up quickly, nudging Jiah gently towards her section, “Off you go now, baby bear.”

Though it looks like she doesn’t really want to, she follows your directions anyway. You quickly walk to your spot as well, not wanting to test him any more. Everyone knows District 11 has the harshest Peacekeepers. They are quick to resort to violence, and they enforced the rules the strictest. In fact, almost all the District is considered underfed because they ration your food more than necessary. They want to send it all to the Capitol. While you haven’t had to deal with it personally for quite a while, since you regularly stay in two different Victor households now, you know it’s happening. And you got well acquainted with that fact when you lived with your blood family before, and definitely felt it in full force while living on the streets. 

You and Jillian often have to treat things like malnutrition and dehydration in the people. You have actually gotten to the point where you’re so bothered by it that you’ve started entering your name more times simply to get extra supplies and food. Not for you to use, of course, but to share with others that need it. That way they could get what they need, and their kids don’t have to put their names in themselves. You remember how desperate you were for _anything_ on the streets, and you don’t want others to go through that too. You know from experience that the feeling of pain and pure desperation of starvation is one of the worst things imaginable. 

You honestly don’t know how anyone in power hasn’t caught on yet, but maybe the people are keeping it quiet enough that it's gone unnoticed. Or maybe they have noticed and just don’t bother dealing with it. You are the ones to treat everyone here, after all. And that includes them should they ever need it. Also, you do technically qualify as your own household since your family died when you were younger and you’ve lived on your own for so long. So maybe that helps you get by with it too.

You stand and observe while others slowly file in. You can see Jimin, Jillian, and the rest of the boys easily, as well as Mrs. Park. And while you can’t see Jiah anymore, they probably can. You greet the few people in your age group that you both speak to often enough and that were actually willing to talk. Which is actually still a lot of people, as you’re a very social person these days. You also didn’t mind talking to the others around you if that’s what helps them deal with their stress. 

While you don’t personally consider yourself popular or a social butterfly, you pride yourself in being able to fake it and communicate well with all sorts of people. You prefer to be by yourself and with those closest to you, as very few actually get past the barriers you’ve put around yourself, but you never know when you could need a little help. Besides, you believe it's better to treat people in life with kindness, despite if they treat you the same way. You’ve had enough harsh treatment for a lifetime, and you don’t wish it on others. A lot of times, Jimin thinks it's crazy how easily you decide to forgive and forget. You weren’t always that way, you used to be capable of such hate and could hold quite the grudge. Don’t get it wrong, you could still very much do those things if driven to. But you have learned from your experiences, and you put plenty of merit behind the belief that brightening someone’s day or having lots of friends is far better in the long run. 

As it becomes more and more crowded your mind stops wondering and truly begins to focus on the situation at hand. 

The Reaping starts once everyone is here. After a brief internal debate, you decide its best to avoid looking at the screens and focus wholey on the speakers. You normally hate how they try to interpret and suggest things with their visuals anyway. They make everything a lot more dramatic and stressful than it needs to be. You understand that that’s show business, but it still doesn’t help everyone feel better about it all. 

First, the Mayor steps up to the podium and begins the yearly opening speech. The story of Panem, and why the Hunger Games were formed. Then he lists all the past Victors of District 11, and you all clap, as is mandatory. It always seems to last forever, yet also at the same time each year the speech feels shorter and shorter. You feel a familiar exhaustion in you that seems to have grown with each year you’ve watched the Reaping. It especially multiplies each year you’ve been in them. You just want it to be over.

“And now our very own District Escort, Sven Nils.” The Mayor introduces, stepping away from the podium and quickly returning to his seat. Everyone just wants to get this over with, it seems.

Sven steps up to the podium excitedly, “Hello everyone, it’s absolutely lovely to be back in District 11!”

You can feel the people around you rolling their eyes at that. He clears his throat and smiles at you brightly, “Onto the main event. Happy Hunger Games, everyone! And may the odds be ever in your favor.”

This time, you nearly roll your eyes at the statement. You hate that infamous saying just as much as the next person. No matter how excited or sincere they try and sound, it always just seems mocking and belittling. But maybe that’s just your bitter, more cynical, side talking. 

“Now, as always.” He says, “Ladies first!”

With that he walks over to the girls’ glass ball. You can practically feel the whole District holding their breath in that moment, as he reaches in, digs around a little, and pulls out that tiny folded piece of paper. That small little fragile thing holds the fate and possibly the death of an innocent child inside. 

He begins his walk back to the mic, taking his sweet time on the way there. Or maybe time has just slowed down or it simply just feels like that with all the terror that fills the air. 

While you don’t necessarily feel panic, you do feel like your entire being is being heightened with how intensely focused you are. Your mind is practically buzzing, going a million miles a second. All your senses are sharp, and you’re so aware of everything around you that you’re sure the memory of this would be burned into your brain. You can feel the nerves of the people around you making the air practically spark and sizzle. You can feel those pressed against you that are shaking with fear, and hear the slight almost unnoticeable sounds of the girls that are crying. Yes, you think, you’re definitely never going to forget this moment. But this is what happens every year.

Once he gets to the mic he clears his throat once again and opens the paper, then clearly calls out the name written neatly on it.

“Jiah Park.”

And with that, you feel it. While everyone else is sighing with relief, the most pure sense of dread and full body panic fills you to the brim. It’s overflowing, and basically primal in its intensity. It feels like your very soul has left your body, leaving you empty and unable to function, metaphorically gasping for air. Those around you grumble in disappointment at a 12 year old being picked, but you stand frozen. Those that were once pressed up against you stepped away as much as they can, seemingly uncomfortable with the fight or flight mode that seems to be radiating off of you. Though one or two of them try some form of comfort, it doesn’t really reach you. It isn’t unlike when Jimin’s name was called a few years ago.

In a matter of seconds you manage to swing your eyes to three different places. First, you look at the Victors. They’re all filled with such sadness and horror that the Park family would have to go through this again. That this time, it isn’t going to be a fairly self managing young adult, but a child. One that had spent her time before this laughing and screaming in joy while dancing around. The little girl that has brought so much light to their dark lives and the lives of the people around her. The child that, in all honesty, most likely wouldn’t be able to make it back home.

And Jimin, your beloved Jimin. His face is filled with such anguish it rips your heart out of your chest. You can see it in his eyes, he’s replaying the horrors of his Games. All the torture and pain he went through, he’s imagining Jiah, his whole world, going through that. He’s probably even thinking about how much worse everything could go for her. The Games are always different, and the Head Gamemaker right now is brutal. Though you see him quickly regain his composure and wipe his face clean as best he could, you can still see the remnants so clearly in his eyes, and you can’t take looking at it.

So then, your eyes switch over to Mrs. Park. If you had thought the look on Jimin’s face was bad, the look his mother wore threw your heart to the ground and shredded it into a million pieces. You can see it all on her face. She had already gone through this once. Could the universe really be so cruel as to make it happen again? She had been basically inconsolable the first time, and you think you all know she wouldn’t be able to make it through a second. Her husband is dead. She has already lost the son she used to know and love, whether he came back or not. Now she’s going to lose her only other family too, for good this time. It would break her, she would literally die from heartache and grief. You can relate in a way, being the only surviving member of your family. You had been left alone as you slowly watched them all die around you, because of you. 

The other mothers around her try desperately to comfort her. And though she does have her hand around her mouth, she doesn’t cry out. She stands strong, even with the tears she had running down her face. You’re reminded that if the Parks were taught one thing in life it was how to stand up tall in the face of adversity, and you switch your gaze one final time. 

Lastly, you look at the screen. Where you can see poor, terrified, crying little Jiah stepping out from her section and take the few steps that begin her walk to the stage. She’s clenching the skirt of her dress tightly, probably in an attempt to hide her shaking, not that it necessarily works. She looks so beyond scared. She knows she’s walking to her death. That’s the last straw for you. The foot stomping on the last remains of your heart and grinding it into the dirt. 

The world comes back to you all at once, all the sounds and smells. Your body is filled with an energy of some sort, but it doesn’t really register with you. Suddenly you feel only certainty. You know what you have to do. You can’t let them go through this again. You can’t see _Jimin_ go through it another time. There would be nothing left of any of them, and you’d be left alone again. You just… can’t let that happen. 

So you wait, unbearably so, but you manage. As you watch Jiah stumble her way up the stage, you feel an intense stare focus on you. You easily recognize it and turn your eyes towards the source. Your eyes meet Jillian’s with just as much fire in them. He looks at you calculatingly, searching for something, and you stare back filled with drive and determination. Neither of you are unsure or hesitant. He seems to find what he wants as he looks you in the eyes again and gives you a nod of approval that’s filled with a bittersweet understanding. He knows what you’re going to do. You give him a nod back in thanks, before focusing back on Jiah. You’ll be doing this with or without his approval, and he probably knows that, but it’s still nice to have him back you up.

Sven grabs her shoulder as she nears, bending down to talk to her easier, “And you are Jiah Park, yes?”

He holds the microphone out for her. She sniffs slightly, still crying silently, and says quietly but surprisingly evenly, “Yes, sir. I am.”

You’re filled with a sense of pride that she’s kept herself together and can reply with such strength, just like Jimin and just like her mother. You guess you’ve taught her well. There goes everyone’s bets about the chosen Tribute breaking down this year. 

“Well aren’t you the sweetest thing. So polite.” He coos, maybe in an attempt at comfort, but it obviously falls flat. 

So, he straightens up and turns back to the crowd. “Now, as is mandatory, I must ask if anyone would like to volunteer to replace this lovely little girl here?”

Normally, this would be met with silence. No one in District 11 ever volunteers. In fact, you don’t really think anyone can even remember it happening in recent history. Most think it’s an automatic death sentence coming from your District. And who would be willing to do that, really? They all care too much about their own survival, even at the cost of a little girl’s life. Quite pathetic, actually. But you guess that’s what the Capitol wants from its subjects.

However, you’ve been waiting for this moment. You refuse to submit. You stand up straight and take a deep breath before he even finishes the words. You step as far forward as you can towards the rope to separate yourself from those around you. As he finishes you raise your hand without hesitation and project your voice loudly and confidently for all to hear.

“I volunteer as Tribute!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I hope you enjoyed. Let me know what you think & I'll see you next week!


	6. Goodbye For Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It may the last big decision of your life, but there's no going back now. After a few heartbreaking goodbyes it's time for the Games to really begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Want a more immersive reading experience? Use the google chrome extension InteractiveFics to replace things like Y/N with words and names of your choice: [https://chrome.google.com/webstore/detail/interactivefics/pcpjpdomcbnlkbghmchnjgeejpdlonli/related?hl=en](url)

**_Y/N’s POV_ **

At first, your words are met by a shocked silence. No one knows what to do as they try to process what just happened. Hell, it’s been so long since someone’s volunteered that maybe they don’t even remember what to do anymore. The protocol might have been forgotten simply because it hasn’t been needed.

You really hate the silence surrounding you in that moment. You’ve always hated silence. However, having all eyes on you is not something that makes you uncomfortable. You stopped caring about things like that when living on the streets. Everyone had always looked at you with unashamed disgust and pity wherever you went. After so much of that, you really stop caring about stares and judgement. So while the people around you are gawking and trying to figure out what to do, you simply stare up defiantly. Your actions aren’t a mistake, as much as some might think they are.

“Well that’s-” Sven starts, completely shocked and not seeming to know what to say really. He clears his throat, “-that’s simply wonderful.”

Not the best choice of words, but it will have to do. If you were in any other circumstances, you would have felt amused or even laughed at that response. Instead, you calmly begin to make your way out of the crowd and towards the stage. 

Unfortunately, that’s when everyone’s mind catches up with them, and that’s when the screaming starts. 

“Y/N! Y/N, you can’t do that!” Jiah screams in terror, this time breaking down for real.

“Don’t leave me! Don’t leave us!” She sobs out, trying to run to you. “Just let me go instead! _Please_!”

That’s when Jin shoots across the stage and takes her into his arms. She doesn’t go out without a fight though, kicking, screaming, and crying while she is carried toward her mother. Your mind briefly flashes to how Jimin fought in your arms like that last night, and you somehow feel like that was worlds away at this point. Seokjin doesn’t seem the slightest bit bothered by the distressed child’s attempts to get free, but you do see him look at you with sadness on his face. 

It’s so hard to hear her desperate screams like this, but you put on a face and don’t hesitate in your steps. You don’t even think about looking at anyone, especially Jimin as you make your way on stage. You know you wouldn’t be able to stand it. 

“Let me go! Let me go to her! I want to go instead! I’ll go instead!” Her voice breaks and her cries dissolve into full body sobs as Jin places her down and her mother pulls her close to sob into her stomach.

By that time, you’ve made it to Sven on stage and while your resolve doesn’t falter, your heart is breaking inside. You won’t let it show though. You can’t afford that now. 

“That was very brave of you, my dear.” He says, smiling down at you. He seems to have recovered from his shock and put his charismatic persona back on. 

Now that you’re close to him you can see a bit of a struggle in his eyes. You feel a little sympathy for him. He has to stand here every year and pretend to be happy to send children to their death. He seems to be hiding his sadness that he has to witness such things like this. Yet, he’s also trying to show you he understands and wishes to comfort you as much as he can. His eyes tell it all. You can’t hold anything against him for that, he really does seem to care.

“Now, what’s the name of our courageous volunteer, hmm?” He asks, holding the microphone for you. Time for the show to begin. 

“Y/N L/N.” You say with a blinding smile, putting up a confident and positive front with ease. You’ve learned to pretend and fake it quite well. You’re confident in your ability to give people whatever type of person they want, and that is going to be a huge advantage. You need to play the crowd well if you’re going to get anywhere with this. 

He seems a bit startled by your actions, but goes with it anyway. “Well aren’t you an absolute sweetheart. Why don’t we give it up for this charming young lady right here!”

For a second or two, he’s the only one to clap. You look out at the crowd to see everyone’s stares. A lot of them, maybe even most of them, look sad. It’s almost as if they didn’t want you to be picked. Which is, honestly, quite shocking to you. You try to be friendly with everyone, try and talk to them, help them, and comfort them whenever they need it. Despite that, you still just think that most of them see you as the nasty little street rat they used to call you. It makes you really realize how far you’ve come from that time, without even realizing it. 

But their silence doesn’t last long, eventually someone starts clapping slowly. It begins to crescendo from the one, to a few, and then basically everyone. The speed and volume escalates too. It’s by no means a thunderous applause, but it’s the most you’ve ever heard the crowd respond in a Reaping here _ever_. It’s their way of showing their support of you, how they felt about you. And it’s honestly something truly heartwarming. You feel special and loved by a community you thought hated you. 

All you can think to do is smile and give them a small wave back. You even play it up a little to make it seem like you’re so touched it makes your eyes teary, which honestly isn’t that far off. 

“Well...” Sven says breathlessly as it dies down. He’s getting all sorts of surprises this year. He looks at you, saying, “I think it’s obvious how popular you are.”

You force yourself to smile shyly, a blush rising to your cheeks. You simply tuck some loose hair back behind your ear and shrug a little, feigning embarrassment. 

“Now for the boys!” He says in excitement. You wonder if people will be annoyed at how long this has taken, a lot more has happened this year than normal. And while Sven does love to talk, he’s never said so much during the event before. What are you thinking, the audience will probably eat all of this up. 

“I don’t know about the rest of you, but I don’t know how much more excitement my heart can take today.” He says cheerily, making his way over to the boys’ glass bowl. Again, everyone waits with bated breath as he digs around a little and pulls out a name. 

As soon as he gets back to the podium he opens it up and clears his throat again, announcing the slip’s contents, “Marselle Elick.”

A part of the 16 year old section separates to reveal the person called standing terrified in the middle. His skin is a dark mocha and his black hair is shaved down so it looks like a shadow on top of his head. He’s reasonably tall, probably a lot taller than you are, but he doesn’t seem very in shape. He probably spends most of his time in school instead of in the fields if you had to guess. He isn’t crying like Jiah had, but he looks like he’s in complete shock. He’s shaking rather violently, his panic and fear radiating off of him. It’s pretty obvious he’s a nervous wreck. 

He obviously doesn’t want to move, doesn’t want to believe the reality of the situation. He hesitates long enough that the Peacekeepers shove their way through the crowd and begin dragging him on stage. He doesn’t really fight them, just sort of follows their directing limply. He looks like he’s on death row. It’s a stark contrast from your confident behavior. As much as you hate to think it, the differences in attitude could work in your favor. 

The Peacekeepers shove him on stage next to you and he gulps, looking out at the crowd desperately. Sven doesn’t even try to talk to him this time, it’s obvious he won’t be able to get anything out of him. This time when he asks for volunteers it’s met with the normal reaction. No one moves, no one speaks, just nothing. 

In the corner of your eye you see Marselle close his eyes with a pained expression on his face as his last hope of survival is crushed, a few tears slipping out. You feel bad for him, and want to comfort him, but you don’t think that would be acceptable right now. Besides, that would require looking over towards the male Victors and you still don’t have the strength to face any of them.

The Mayor switches places with Sven again and begins the long drawn out reading of the Treaty of Treason. It’s something that happens every year, and it’s one of the most boring parts. They normally choose this time to focus on the Tributes and their family’s reactions. 

Tough luck for them, you’re not going to let them see anything close to the breakdown they want from you. They’ll have to go to Marselle for that one. And you have no family left to react to the turn of events, though they would probably use the Parks in place of that. It’s the only tie to you they currently have in that category. 

As the mayor finishes his reading, he steps back and motions for the two of you to shake hands. Without hesitation, you turn to Marselle and hold your hand steadily out to him. You focus intently on him and only him, not bothering to look at your friends behind him. 

He slowly turns to you and hesitates in taking your hand. You send him a comforting smile and nod ever so slightly at your hand to encourage him. Shakily, he reaches out and grasps your hand in his loosely. You grip his hand firmly, giving it a reassuring squeeze, and are the one to actually execute the proper handshake. As you let go of his hand, it falls limply to his side. 

You turn back to the crowd as Panem’s anthem begins to play in the background. You put on a positive smile and wave at the crowd again. You’re already exhausted from this whole thing. You already hate this persona you’re going to have to play, but if you want to survive you have to.

* * *

After the song ends, Peacekeepers surround you and escort you into the building. You’re each taken up in an elevator to your own room, where you will be given an hour to say goodbye to anyone who wants to talk to you. You don’t sit down, in fact you go to hover in the corner of the room. You’ll probably have to get up to talk to everyone anyway. 

Since you’d volunteered your nerves have shot up. The Games started as soon as you raised your hand, so you have to be aware at all times now. If that means having your back to the wall at all times, both figuratively and literally, then so be it. You’re most likely going to be under constant surveillance anyway. This is one of the last opportunities you’ll have to really be you for a while, so you’re going to use it. No crying allowed though, not with the cameras you’ll be surrounded by the second you step out of the building. 

You quickly pull out the locket Jimin gave you today and begin running your fingers over it to calm yourself. This is probably going to be your Token for the Games, and you can already tell you’re going to rely on it to get you through this. You didn’t think you would become that dependent on it when you first got it. You foolishly believed nothing would go wrong and you wouldn’t need to focus on the locket much because you wouldn’t be leaving Jimin ever again. With it being your last year, you had hoped it would go smoothly and you could just start a peaceful life together. Well, as peaceful of a life you could get here. 

You scoff at how stupid of you that was as your eyes fall to the floor, you should know by now to never drop your guard. You’ve learned several times over that the universe has it out for you. You practically live by the rule of Murphy’s Law. Anything that can go wrong, will, and at the worst time possible too. Jimin may try to look on the happier side of things, and in general you do to an extent, but the larger part of you simply can’t do that. You may enjoy the good times when they happen, rare as they may be, but you have always felt like the rug would be pulled out from under you at any time. Even if you don’t ever say it out loud. 

Your head shoots up as you hear the door open for the first time. As you watch them come in, you sigh in relief. Of course Jillian would be the first one to see you, he’s your guardian in a way.

You stare at each other for a few seconds, before he opens his arms and says, “Come here, brat.”

Without a second thought, you rush into his arms. Neither of you have ever been one for physical contact, him because he just doesn’t like people in general, and you from general abuse from others throughout your life. But this is something you both know you need, as you relax into each other's arms. After a few moments he pulls away, hands resting on your shoulders.

“That was very reckless of you.” He says. “But I have a feeling you don’t regret it. You’d probably do it again in a heartbeat.”

“You know it.” You say, smiling down at him shakily.

He taps your chin gently, “Get that chin up there. Look proud. You’ll do fine.”

You do as told, but sigh a little in defeat, “I wish I had your confidence in me.”

He scoffs, “Nonsense. This world has tried nothing, but to tear you down since the moment you were born. Yet here you are still standing. Don’t underestimate yourself like that.”

“I guess you’re right.” You mumble, thinking it over. 

You had somehow survived the abuse and neglect before you had to watch your family die around you. You didn’t give up when you were on the streets either, no matter how much you struggled. And look where it got you, you have a home, a family even. What’s one more challenge? At least this time you have more to fight for than just simple survival. You have people to get back to. Your resolve becomes far more solid in that moment of realization. 

“There’s that little girl I saw that day on the streets.” He says, smiling at you and squeezing your shoulders reassuringly. “The one who had all that spunk.”

You both laugh at that.

“I thought you hated that spunk.” You tell him. “I seem to recall you cursing it on several occasions.”

“Brought me a lot of trouble, didn't you?” He mumbles. “But it kept you alive. Never forget that. Always remember that our will to survive is far stronger than we think.”

“It can do amazing things.” You say, as if you’d heard it all a million times before, which isn’t that far off. “Trust your instincts. And if you hesitate, you die.”

He nods smugly, “There you go. See, I told you you would be fine. Just remember.”

“I will.” You promise softly. “Thank you for everything.”

“I’m fairly certain it should be I thanking you.” He huffs. “You’ve been a good kid, despite all your havoc wreaking.”

“Who, me?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. “Preposterous.”

He sighs, his exhaustion finally showing, “Well, I suppose you have other more important people to talk to than a sentimental old man like me. You don’t have enough time, so I shouldn’t take up anymore of it.”

“You’ll watch me?” You ask hesitantly.

“As if that's a question.” He says exasperatedly, throwing his hands in the air. 

As he begins to leave, he throws back over his shoulder. “I’ll have your favorite meal ready for you when you get back. You better not miss it!”

“I wouldn’t dare.” You say fondly as he opens the door. He throws one last long look over his shoulder before leaving. 

* * *

The next people to come in are Jiah and Mrs. Park. You’re not surprised, you’re sure they would be adamant about seeing you after what you just did. 

Jiah is still crying and immediately rushes into your arms. She’s still going on like earlier, but it’s barely coherent now. You feel bad for making this sweet little girl such a mess. If having to watch her brother go through this hadn’t already scarred her for life, you going in her place like this definitely will. But you can’t find it in yourself to regret your decision. 

“Jiah, it’s alright.” You try and sooth her, though you know it probably won’t work. If Jimin and Mrs. Park haven’t managed it, it probably isn’t possible. Though you doubt Jimin is in a good enough state to try and comfort her right now. He’s honestly probably just as bad as her, if not worse. Come to think of it, he’s most likely trying to avoid everyone so they wouldn’t see him like that. 

You sigh as she continues to cry and shout at you unintelligibly. Bending down, you grab her shoulders and look her in the eye, “Jiah, I need you to listen to me. Can you do that for me?”

She quickly quiets and gives you a nod so faint, you almost don’t see it.

“I know it’s upsetting.” You tell her. “But I did this for good reason. It’s much more likely for me to survive the Games than you. You know that right?”

“Y-es.” She whispers brokenly. “B-but I don-’t like i-it.”

You smile at her, pushing a strand of hair out of her face. It must have fallen out when she was fighting off Jin. “None of us do, sweetheart.”

You can see Mrs. Park’s frown tighten in the corner of your eye. 

“But I promise you,” you continue, “that I will try my absolute hardest to win the Games and come back home.”

You all know you can’t say you promise to come back home. You’re not willing to promise something that might not come true. But this is a nice compromise. Everyone knows you always keep your promises. You can, and will definitely, uphold this one. 

She still looks very reluctant, so you decide to add. “Jiminie came home to us, so you know it's possible. And what about all our oppas? They made it too, didn’t they? And you’ve met old man Jillian, he won a very long time ago. So I promise to try my best to join that list.”

“Pinky promise?” She begs you. 

“Pinky promise.” You say, holding your pinky out to her. 

She shakily reaches her hand up and links your fingers. After a second you bring her back into a tight hug. 

You pause there for a second, taking it all in. These might be the last moments you get with the little girl that’s brought so much joy and laughter into your life. You never thought you would get another chance to be a big sister. To be able to protect and teach and bond with someone in the ways you had previously failed at so horribly. But she’s given you that chance, with the allowance from both Jimin and their mother, and you can’t be more grateful. You don’t regret possibly giving your life for her, but you will also try to survive for her as well. You’re not one to break promises.

After allowing yourself a little time, you kiss her gently on the forehead and stand up, turning to face her mother. 

She has tears in her eyes, but a happy smile on her face. 

She steps up to you, taking your hands in hers. 

“You know I don’t want to watch you suffer like this, and I certainly hate to see Jimin and Jiah suffer again. I would never wish it upon any of you.” She starts. 

You nod, “Of course I know that.”

She ran a hand down the side of your face. “Good… That being said, I couldn’t watch this happen to another child of mine. So, thank you.”

“Eomma!” Jiah cries in shock. “How could you say that!? You’re happy she could die there! What about Jimin!?”

Jiah clearly doesn’t understand, but you do. You can tell by looking into her eyes. She isn’t happy with what she’s going to watch you go through, nor would she enjoy the effect it would have on the people around her that she cares so much about. But, she’s grateful for your actions. She understands why you did it and appreciates it immensely. 

You nod to her while Jiah continues to shout and scream, breaking down once again. And you had just managed to calm her down, you think resignedly. 

Mrs. Park beams at you and nods back, before calmly taking a struggling Jiah into her arms and saying, “We should be off. You have more visitors waiting.”

“Goodbye.” You call after them, a smile on your face. “I hope to see you again!”

* * *

**_Jimin’s POV_ **

I sit heavily on the nearby bench, my head in my hands. I can feel the bench practically vibrating as my leg taps a mile a minute, but I can’t bring myself to stop. It’s so strange that my body could feel so heavy and dark with dread, yet at the same time can be filled with so much energy that I don’t know what to do with it. I could feel what I was doing, could recognize it, but it honestly felt like I was watching someone else on a screen. It was all so distant, muted. I was so far in my head and so consumed by fear that it made my head fuzzy.

I can feel the others sitting around me, Taehyung and Jeongguk attached to my sides after Jiah and my mother had gone in. They all seem nervous and upset too, but not as much as I am. They all try to comfort me in their own way, but I just stare holes into the floor. They can’t help me right now. Not when it feels like my entire world is crashing down around me. And they know that too, but they try anyway. I appreciate it, even in this state. 

There’s a heavy understanding in the air. They had all known what I was planning, had for a while. They had all given their blessing. But now… now they all knew it was the thing waying heaviest on my mind. 

_God, why had I waited to propose? To do anything….. Or everything…._

As the thought enters my head I almost break down right then and there. I feel hands on my back as I let out a small gasp and a whimper, covering my face even more as I know it’s starting to crumble.

“How could you!?” I hear Jiah scream as my mother rounds the corner with her struggling in her arms, breaking me out of my tumbling thought process. How it had taken me that long to notice or hear them is beyond me, but I had other things to focus on. Jiah had been having a rough time before going in, but somehow she looked even worse now. 

“What happened?” I ask, my voice raspy. I don’t mind clearing my throat or attempting to cover it up as everyone’s gaze turns towards me. It’s the first time I’ve spoken since before the Reaping. 

“Oppa.” Jiah says, breaking away from mom and running up to me to throw her arms around me. I’m jerked back by the force of her tackle, but loosely wrap my arms around her anyway. I try fiercely to comfort her, but I’m so far gone right now that I can’t manage anything. Not even a look, or a soothing word. I can’t even move my arms.

I look around desperately in an attempt to get help. Taehyung gives me a look of pity and opens his arms to her. 

“Come here, little bear.” He tells her, and she looks at him through tears before making her way over to him for comfort instead. I hate to not be able to provide what she needs right now, and I hope she’s old enough to understand why, but I know that that might not be the case. She’ll understand when she’s older, I tell myself. 

“E-eomm-a. I-is- happy….. Y/N is g-going….. I-in…….” She cries out desperately. 

We all look at each other sadly, before I turn my gaze up towards my mother. She stands there with tight lips, but doesn’t deny the accusation. Her eyes are dark with melancholy. 

Taehyung hushes Jiah as her sobs continue to be the only noise that fills the air. 

I sigh heavily and give my mom a shallow nod, before my gaze falls back to the ground and I begin wringing my hands again. They were itching to comb through my hair, but I couldn’t right now. Jiah may not understand, she will when she’s older, but I do. I’m sure Y/N does too. I can’t hold it against her. 

“Come here, Jiah.” Namjoon tries, holding a hand out to her. “Let your oppas go talk to Y/N.”

* * *

**_Y/N’s POV_ **

A small time after the door closes, it opens again and in come multiple people. Jeongguk, followed by Taehyung, Hoseok, and Seokjin. 

“What was that all about?” Hoseok asks, gesturing toward the door as it closes. 

“She told me thank you.” You inform them. They all make some sort of sound of acknowledgement or give a grim nod of understanding. “Jiah didn’t like that much.”

“Of course.” Jin says with a weak smile. 

You eye the four of them. “I’m guessing Yoongi and Namjoon will be my Mentors then? And Jimin wanted to come in last… alone?”

They were phrased as questions, but you all knew they really weren’t. 

Jeongguk scoffs. “Always the observant one.”

“You know it.” You say, smiling at him. You open your arms, “Now come here, you idiot.”

He stands stiffly for a moment, hesitant. Taehyung elbows him in the side, causing him to uncross his arms and step forward into your hug. 

You stay there for a second, soaking each other up. 

“Make it back.” He whispers quietly in your ear, before pulling away and acting like nothing happened. 

He switches places with Taehyung, who gives you much more enthusiastic a hug. 

“You’ll watch out for him, right Tae?” You ask him. 

“Of course!” He says as he pulls back, hands on your shoulders and grinning at you. You smile back at him and pretend not to notice the tears in his eyes. 

Jin and Hobi come up to you together. 

Both of them put a hand on your shoulder and squeeze it reassuringly.

“You’ll be alright.” Hoseok says, smiling at you. It doesn’t seem to reach his eyes though. You don’t see him so sad or serious often. It makes your mood drop even more, though you try your best to cover it up.

“You bet I’ll be.” You joke with a small laugh. 

They both chuckle a bit too. 

You hesitantly reach up and grab their arms. 

“You’ll-” You start, then try again a little firmer. “You’ll take care of them, right?”

“Absolutely.” Hobi says without hesitating, a fierce look in his eye. Seokjin nods in agreement, determination in his. 

“Everything will be the way you left it when you get back.” Jin promises. It’s nice that they had some faith in you to come back. But you also think they needed to say it that way, that they needed to believe it. At least for now. 

“Thank you.” You tell them, and you really mean it. 

They both smile sadly at you, before they each pull you into a hug. The Peacekeeper knocks on the door to show your time is almost up. 

You look at them all and smile. “Thank you all for everything. I’ll try my best to make it back.”

* * *

You sigh as they leave, sitting down finally and running a hand through your hair. This is a lot. The feeling of the room, as well as the weight on your shoulders, has progressively gotten heavier with each visit. You know your time is almost up. And there is only one more person you could think would come visit you. 

Funnily enough it’s the person you’re simultaneously the most and least looking forward to. This is the one that would seal the deal, make the reality of the situation come crumbling down in full force. This is going to be the hardest one. 

You look up as the door closes and silence fills the room. There, staring at you, is Jimin. Even so stressed and upset, you can’t help but think about how beautiful he is. It steals your breath away, every time. But then the thought comes to you. 

_This might be the last time you see him._

This might be the last time to call him beautiful, to tell him you love him, to kiss and to hold him. And that hurts, it breaks your heart. 

Then why are you just staring at each other in silence? There’s so much to say, so much to do. 

As you start to move, he does as well. At first it’s hesitant, like you’re struggling to, but in the end you’re practically launching yourselves at each other. 

You meet in the middle, wrapping your arms around each other and lips meeting in a desperate kiss. It’s everything. You’re able to tell him that you’re sorry, but you had to do it. And he’s able to tell you it’s all going to be okay, that he understands. You’re both telling each other how much you love the other, that you will both try your hardest to come out on the other side so you can find each other again. 

Eventually, you both have to come up for air. You pull away, breathing heavily and leaning your foreheads together. Slowly your eyes flutter open to meet his and you notice he’s been crying. But just like always, his eyes are the most expressive part of him. Which is saying a lot because Jimin in his entirety is _very_ expressive. 

“Why didn’t you look at me?” He whispers brokenly. 

Those first words speak volumes to you. Not why did you do it, but why didn’t you look at me. It’s not about him not understanding why you did it, or even how you could do it. He’s asking why, when you knew how much it would affect me, did you decide to ignore me? Why did you not ask for my approvable, or my opinion on the matter at all? Not even with something as simple as a look? You decided to deny me even that. 

“I wasn’t okay.” He tells you. “ _I’m not okay_ . And you didn’t even _look_ at me.”

You can see the tears forming in his eyes. You gently reach up to rub his cheek comfortingly. 

“I was afraid.” You whisper back. 

“Of me?” He asks shakily.

“No. Never of you.” You reply immediately. “You looked so devastated, when they called Jiah’s name. I knew you would be upset, that what I did would cause you pain. And I was too afraid to see the damage I had dealt.”

There is a moment of silence between the two of you, him seeming to understand you have more to say and you trying to find the right words or simply the courage to speak them. 

“What if….” You start hesitantly. “What if you hated me?”

His tears started falling as pain filled his eyes, his hands came up to hold your face.

“I could _never_.” He swears, sounding like the very idea breaks his heart, yet also angers him. 

You can feel your hands shaking. Why are they shaking? You’re not the one crying, yet here you are trembling and he’s the one steadying you. You thought it was going to be the other way around. 

“I know that.” You try to promise him that. “Deep down, I know. But I was still so scared. _I’m terrified Jimin_.”

“Listen to me.” He says seriously. “It’s alright to feel this way. There’s nothing wrong with it and I completely understand. It makes _sense_. Don’t worry about it, because I forgave you already.”

“But,” He continues, “I need you to know that everything is going to be fine. We’ll all be okay. I’ll be okay. And you have to promise me that you’ll come home.”

“You know I can’t do that, Jiminie.” You choke out, tears welling in your eyes even though you refuse to let them fall. 

“Then-” He starts, voice breaking a bit. “Then promise me that you’ll try. Tell me you’re going to do everything you can to make it back to me. _Please._ I need to hear you say it. You have to _promise_ _me_.”

He’s basically sobbing it out by the end, one of his hands falls from your cheek as he attempts to smother the sound with a hand over his mouth. He sounds so heart broken and desperate, you can’t take it. 

“Oh sweetheart.” You say soothingly as you begin to wipe his tears away with an underlayer of your dress’ skirt. There are still several layers below to keep you covered, not that it matters much in a room with just the two of you. Even if there are most likely cameras in the room, you’re never one to be bothered by it. You do make sure to use the inside of the material not only because it’s softer, but also in case there are marks from his makeup. You don’t want people to over analyze it and think it was you crying, that would be a sign of weakness to the audience and your opponents. Even though it was extremely unlikely that they would see it as there were still many layers above it to cover it as well.

As you finish gently wiping away the tracks on his face you tell him with as much feeling as you can manage, from the very bottom of your soul, “I promise. I’ll try my best to make it back to you... If you’ll still have me.”

“You can’t get rid of me that easily.” He jokes with a very watery laugh. 

You laugh at him as well. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He smiles at you. “I love you. Unbelievably so.”

Your face softens. “I love you too, Minnie.”

Suddenly the door is thrown open as Peacekeepers storm into the room. They grab Jimin and begin pulling him violently out of the room, while others grab you to hold you in place. 

You both look at each other in panic, there’s still so much left to say, too much. Your time can’t be up, you aren’t done yet. It’s strikingly similar to how things went with Jimin’s Games, and yet this time there is such a heavier level of risk. How could you survive this twice, when you could barely do it once?

You try to say so many things in that moment: that you love him, you'll try your best, you miss him already, that you’re sorry, even that you’ll try to communicate with him, write to him, or _something_ just to tell him everything you need to say. But none of those words come out. Once again you fail to have the strength to do what you should do. You already feel like you’ve let him down again, and that you will continue to do so. 

_Oh god, I don’t know if I can do this._ You realize. 

But where you have failed, he doesn’t. He never does. He struggles against them and shoutes after you. “Y/N, I love you! Come back, you promised to come back! Everything will be okay! I forgive you, and I’m sorry. Just come back!”

You don’t quite know what they do to shut him up, as they’ve pulled him out the door, around the corner, and down the hall by now. But it does sound like there is a small scuffle before the shouting stops. Who knows, maybe they simply cover his mouth to muffle the noise he’s making. But more likely they’ve done something like hit him to startle him enough to shut up or even knock him out completely. The thought makes you angry, but you can’t focus on that as the remaining Peacekeepers start to move you out of the room. 

You don’t struggle in their grip, but as you begin to leave the building you straighten yourself up as best you can and put up your facade. You will look positive and proud to those watching, like you won’t let this break you down. While you don’t necessarily feel that way on the inside, it’s how you should be. 

So that’s what you’ll do. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooof, that scene at the end with Jimin gets me every time I read it over. I hate thinking of any of these boys ever being hurt or upset. It kills me. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed! Please let me know all of your thoughts and I'll see you next week!


	7. Fake It Till You Make It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leaving your District behind is hard, and the first night on the train could be considered even worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Want a more immersive reading experience? Use the google chrome extension InteractiveFics to replace things like Y/N with words and names of your choice: [https://chrome.google.com/webstore/detail/interactivefics/pcpjpdomcbnlkbghmchnjgeejpdlonli/related?hl=en](url)

**_Y/N’s POV_ **

You’re shoved rather roughly into the back of a car, with Marselle on your other side. Despite the two of you being sandwiched between two rather gruesome looking Peacekeepers, the ride to the station is actually short and sweet. You even allow yourself a moment to take in the fact this is the first time you’ve had the opportunity to be in a car, and it will be the same in a few moments when you board the train. You think about your trip on the elevator as well, and remember only doing so on the few rare occasions someone needed medical treatment in the upper levels of the Justice Building. You’re sure you’re going to have many new experiences throughout your time in the Games. You’ll try your best to be appreciative of being given the opportunity to do so, despite the circumstances surrounding it.

The ride gives you the time to make small adjustments to your appearance in order to look your best, even if you must do it under the watchful eyes of everyone in the car. Who knows, maybe they just think you’re vain or it’s your way of fidgeting with nerves. With the short time you have remaining, you use it to gather yourself and relax as much as you can. It’s nice to do in a silent car, despite the sound of Marselle sniffling next to you. 

It’s obvious he’d continued to cry since you left the stage, and he looks like an absolute mess right now. You’re extremely grateful you’d managed to keep it together thus far, despite how difficult it had been, knowing it would help much more in the long run. Besides, you’ve always preferred to use your emotion to fuel your work and figure out the solution to the problem rather than wallow in it. Self pity gets you nowhere in life but hard work, passion, and dedication sure do. You feel a bit bad thinking of it that way, it’s not Marselle’s fault that it’s his natural response. It’s not meant to sound demeaning in any way, it’s just how your mind functions.

You plaster a smile on your face as you arrive at the station and are beconed out of the car. It’s so unbelievably crowded. There are people everywhere, filming, cameras flashing, reporters screaming. It seems like everyone even a little bit interested from the Reaping had moved here to send you off. Everyone’s attention is laser focused solely on the two of you. You know everyone will be dissecting this footage later, hell, people might even do it for years to come. So you try your best to put on a show. 

You have to stand outside the train for a while before you’re allowed in, so everyone around you can get all the mixed media they need. You use that time to smile, wave, and engage with as many of those around you as you can. You can even be seen chatting and laughing with Sven. You don’t spend long trying to comfort Marselle, as it just seems to make him angry. 

In what feels like no time you’re told to get on the train and the door slides shut behind you, the train immediately shoots off towards your destination. While the velocity you’re traveling at throws you off quite a bit, both mentally and physically, it doesn’t take long to get used to as it’s surprisingly smooth. 

Sven offers to give you a tour of the train, since you have to wait quite a while till dinner starts, apparently. You, of course, say yes, excited to learn more about him and spend more time with him. 

He has one of the biggest roles to play in your survival for the Games. Plus, he just seems like a nice guy. You don’t have it in you to hold your possible death from this whole thing against him. It really isn’t his fault and he’s here to assist you as best he can to make sure that doesn’t happen. So why be upset and pin all of that on him when he has nothing to do with it? Besides, right now you just need things to do, and he provides a wonderful distraction, as well as a learning experience and a part of your strategy to use. 

Marselle, however, takes things a bit differently. He just quietly mumbles to show him to his room and that he’ll figure everything out on his own. Neither of you really challenge him on that, knowing that people deal with things differently and that this whole thing is a rather heavy and serious matter.

“Oh, I hope he’ll be alright.” Sven says worriedly after you drop him off and get out of ear shot. “I know this situation is simply horrible for the two of you. I just wish I could help him more.”

“Just give him some time.” You suggest, “Hopefully he’ll come around. Just keep trying to help. I’m sure he appreciates it, even if he might not say it.”

You don’t quite know if that’s true, but you hope it is. It definitely seems to work in cheering him up though. 

“You’re right, of course.” He says excitedly, clapping his hands. “Oh, I can’t wait to show you your room, dearie! You’re simply going to _love_ it.”

“I’m sure.” You say with a laugh.

There’s so much on the train. A dining and living area, so many places to lounge, rooms to watch things in, and your bedrooms. Each of you have your own rooms, with some to spare even. The inside is huge, with anything you can possibly imagine wanting or needing inside. The bed is insanely comfortable, the closets are stocked with beautifully made clothes, the bathroom has everything you can possibly think of to pamper yourself with. A comfortable bath and shower that have cold and _hot_ water that you could use whenever you want. Both are true rarities in such a poor District. There are plenty of beauty products too, for your hair and body, there’s even makeup and nail polish. 

“There’s so much here!” You say to Sven after he finished explaining where everything is and how everything functions, completely blown away by it all. You know the Capitol and its people are extravagant and maybe go more than a little crazy with this stuff, but this is insane. 

“I know, sweetheart! And it’s all for you!” He promises you. “You can use any of it, as much as you want.”

After a few more minutes of talking he gets up from where you’re chatting on the bed to leave, “Well, I’ll leave you to relax and explore for a little bit. Dinner will be in about an hour in the dining car.”

“Actually,” you say, standing up to get his attention. He pauses in the doorway and turns back to you. 

“Is there any way I can get a notebook and things to write with?” You ask curiously. “I know that I can’t take it into the Games with me, I already have my Token. But I’d just like to have something to write in while I can. I’ve got a lot to say, you know? And… maybe I could write some letters to people back home and then give it to you or one of the Mentors to, you know…. Take it back to them?”

God, you can’t believe you just ranted like that. But it seems to do the trick. 

Sven’s face softens, “I understand, honey. I’ll get you that notebook right away! Is there anything else?”

You pretend to think for a moment before you say, “Could you maybe get some other Games around for me to watch and study? I want to spend all my free time preparing.”

“That’s smart of you! I’ll start working on that too. That one might take a little bit longer though. I might have to call around to get permission and access, but I can cash in a few favors. Just for you.” He finishes with a wink. 

“Thank you.” You say, completely sincere. 

“Anytime, love.” He says happily. “It’s what I’m here for.”

With that, he finally leaves you alone. You sigh and lay out on the bed, hoping to get that notebook soon. You’ve had a plan for this very event should it ever happen thanks to Jillian believing you must be prepared. Since you had decided to volunteer, you’ve been performing and changing your strategy to the best of your ability and you need to write it all down. 

But besides wanting the notebook to sort out your thoughts and finalize your plan, you really do want it for the reason you told Sven. While you want to write down your process, you also want to make sure you cover everything. What’s been happening to you, your personal experience, all your thoughts and feelings. Even all of your personal history up to this point. You don’t want to leave anything left unsaid before you go into the Games, just in case you don’t make it out. Then all your friends and family will know everything about you and what happened, what you’re thinking and feeling, your honest thoughts. 

At the end of the book, you plan to write a letter to everyone individually. So you can tell them everything you’ve always wanted to and needed to. The things you should have said before, but were too afraid to. You’ve been so withdrawn with your past and your personal experiences in life. Sure, they know some of what happened, but not all of it and what they do know isn’t that in depth. 

You want to be able to tell people what your family was like before they died. What living on the streets was like. How you felt about slowly gaining back a family, how difficult it was for you. How you fell in love with Jimin. Where all of your scars and little trivial habits came from. You want to be able to say those things, and not have to worry about others not understanding anymore. 

You sigh and run a hand down your face. This is going to be a lot of work. You’re not going to have time to just sit here like this. You have a plan and things to do, and from here on out it’s going to be non stop. All your free time will be spent preparing, you’re never not going to be doing something. But it’s nice to get one more small break in. 

With a groan you sit up and look around your room once more. Time to see what exactly is offered to you and get a bit more comfortable, at least for the train ride to the Capitol. You need to scope out your look for your arrival as well though. You need to look good, but you also know that shortly after you’ll meet your prep team to go through some deep body cleaning. You’d like to prepare for that and make it as easy as possible for them as well, which means some intense self cleaning on the train. 

Now with things to do you stand up and set to work.

* * *

When you arrive for dinner a bit early, you’re greeted with a beaming Sven and a notebook gently shoved into your hands. 

“Here you go, dear! I hope I got the right size book for you. I even found these lovely multicolored pens to use. You seem like the type of person to enjoy organized multicolored notes!”

You look down at the objects in your hand with a smile. He is indeed right, you do enjoy it. It helps make your thoughts more organized, plus it looks good. You can even write to everyone in their favorite color. It may seem like a small unimportant thing, but to you it meant a lot. 

“Thank you, Sven.” You say looking up at him. “It’s perfect.”

“It’s simply no problem, angel! Come, sit down. The food is almost ready. All we have to do is wait for Marselle.”

Even though you’re here early, a lot of the food is already out. You set your notebook to the side and for the first time since this whole thing started, you get the chance to talk to Namjoon and Yoongi, who will be your Mentors throughout the Games this time around. You figured that would be the case when they hadn’t visited after the Reaping. They don’t let the Mentors see the Tributes till the train normally. 

“Enjoying the festivities?” Namjoon asks, as they both eye up your appearance. You had taken your makeup off and changed into a far more relaxed outfit. A comfortable yet very presentable looking jumpsuit, that honestly almost looked like a dress with how wide a flowy the pant legs are. Once you had seen it in your closet, you couldn’t resist. After all, it was your favorite color. And the matching slippers you had found that looked very near to normal shoes were too cozy to pass up.

“You bet.” You say with a grin. 

“What’s the notebook for?” Yoongi questions, raising an eyebrow and nodding towards it. 

“Planning, duh.” 

He rolls his eyes at you. 

“Already got a strategy then?” Namjoon says. It’s phrased as a question, but it’s really more of a statement. He seems exasperated and a bit amused by it. 

“You know it!” You wink at them. 

“No wonder you’ve been acting too chummy with the whole thing.” Yoongi mumbles under his breath, causing you to laugh. 

You spend some time chatting before Sven excuses himself to go get Marselle as the rest of the table is being set with food. You do manage to ask them what you can expect from the rest of the process before the Games. What it’s like being inside it all rather than just seeing it on tv. The biggest thing you focus on are things like the stylist sessions, the training and scoring, and the interviews. You need to know more about it to make sure you plan well. You can ask about the whole process of entering the Games later in the week. 

You wait until they both get back, Marselle following behind looking rather gloomy. 

As he sits down silently and avoids looking at the rest of you, you deem it alright to fill your plates and start eating. He doesn’t have much, but you on the other hand fill your plate to the brim. 

No one seems to notice as they all turn on Marselle to interrogate. Or maybe they do and they just think you’re excited to try all of this new, fancy, and well cooked food. 

“So what are you good at?” Yoongi asks him.

“What?” He asks confused, obviously either not understanding the question or simply surprised that someone was talking to him. 

“What are you good at?” He asks again. “Are you fit? Can you lift things? Do you have any experience with any weapons?”

“I-” He starts, seeming bothered. “No. How could I? Why- why does that matter?”  
  


“We need to know so we can figure out what your strong suits are and what you should focus on during training.” Namjoon tells him. 

“What about survival tactics?” He tries, not as blunt as Yoongi. “Building shelter, hunting, finding water, what plants are safe to use and eat? Do you know anything like that?”

“No, why would I!?” He snaps at them. 

“Let’s not get so worked up so soon.” Sven pipes up in an attempt to de-escalate the situation. But if the tensing in Marselle’s jaw is anything to go by, it only makes things worse. You think you might be able to see a vein start to pop out on his forehead. 

“It’s alright to not know those things. What about strategy and planning?” Sven suggests gently.

“No, okay! I don’t know any of it!” He shouts. “Why are you all questioning me so much!? What about her!?”

He throws his arm in your direction, and all their eyes flick briefly to you. 

“Because they’ve already asked me.” You inform him calmly. “Besides, oppas- I mean our Mentors, know me already. I know what I’m good at and what I need to work on. I’ve got a plan.”

With that, you start filling up your plate again, as those around you nod and make sounds of agreement. 

“How are you so calm about all of this?” He growls at you. “You’re going to die. It’s like you planned for this.”

You look up at him sharply, but your voice remains steady, if not a little firmer. “What’s happened has happened. There’s nothing I can do about it now except prepare to the best of my ability. I didn’t plan to volunteer like this, and I’m not particularly fond of the situation, but I knew it was always a reality that I might have to face eventually. I see no point in wallowing in self pity and taking it out on those around me.”

You know you should have controlled your mouth and shouldn't have said that when his face darkens immediately. He opens his mouth to retort, but Yoongi cuts him off, “That’s enough. We have things to figure out right now.”

You mostly tune them out from then on as you keep eating, but still register what they’re saying. As horrible as it may sound, you’re not one to share your strategy. Not only do you think there are most likely cameras everywhere to get as much information out of you as possible, but you also just don’t want others to know. Not only could your in depth plan possibly mark you as a threat, but Marselle is technically your enemy. However, you will take all of the opportunities you can get to learn about other people’s strategy for this. 

Even with him being rude so far, you don’t hate him. In fact, you sympathize with the way he’s feeling and dealing with it all very much. It’s a lot easier to deal with things the way he’s doing it, by pushing it away and becoming angry at the world, but you’re simply handling it all very differently. You can’t blame him for that. It could come off as a comparison of ignoring it versus accepting it. You will freely admit that you yourself have acted that way before, but it was basically all when you were younger. You like to think you’ve learned from it and grown out of it by now, but the tendencies may still pop up on occasion. You just try your best to smother them. 

However, only one person survives the Games. That’s the whole point. Twenty three children are going to die, preferably at the hands of others and the Gamemakers instead of by yours. But that all means that you’re still pitted against each other. Which means it's best for you to not share your plan with him, but listen to his so you can be as prepared as possible. 

You hate having to think like this and treat others this way, but you promised Jimin to come back to him. So you’re going to try your hardest, even though that most likely means you’re going to have to do plenty of things you’re not proud of. 

Thinking like this always makes you feel a bit disgusted with yourself. You feel like you’re just letting your brain take over and completely turning off your emotions. You’re running completely on strategy and survival instinct. You feel like you’re looking at everyone around you as pawns in a chess game, and manipulating them all to get the outcome you want. A part of you tries to say that it’s necessary. If you want to make it out alive, this is what you have to do. Whether that’s true or not, you still feel like shit doing it.

You mentally shake your head to clear it and look up at Sven. 

“Do they offer food at all times? Or is it just at meals?” You ask, seemingly randomly. 

He seems puzzled, but answers anyway. “You can get food at any time. If there isn’t anything out in this car, then you can just ask one of the servants.”

You nod. “Alright, thank you.”

“Jesus Y/N, you want _more_ food!?” Yoongi demands. “You’ve already had a fuck ton. I know you aren’t starving!”

“You’re going to make yourself sick.” Namjoon adds lightly. 

You shake your head. “No, I’ll be fine.”

“Why are you doing that?” Marselle asks. “It’s completely ridiculous.”

“It’s all part of my plan.” You tell them, putting even more on your plate. The others eye you hesitantly, but don’t say anything. Marselle, however, has other plans.

“What plan!?” Marselle says in outrage. “Why don’t you tell us all about this brilliant fucking plan of yours!? Do you even have one? Do you not want to help me out? I’m going into this too! It’s not all about you.”

“I know that.” You tell him. “But I don’t have to share anything with any of you. I would appreciate it if you would stop shouting at me. If you have such an issue with me, we can talk about it like adults. But I honestly believe your time would be better spent working towards surviving the Games.”

That’s just what you need to say to a moody and upset teenager, you think to yourself. Let’s talk about things like grown ups. You barely qualify as an adult at this point, and he was nowhere close. 

“Surviving!? What do you mean surviving?” He shouts, standing up and slamming his hands on the table. The other three move to try and get him to calm down or sit back in his seat, and if they don’t they sure seem prepared to act. You weren’t very afraid, there isn’t fighting allowed between Tributes before the Game, but if he hit you then he hit you. You could most likely avoid it, and if not you’ve dealt with worse. 

“We aren’t going to survive!” He raves. “We’re walking straight to our deaths. If you think you can get out alive then you’re absolutely crazy!”

You sigh and lean back in your seat. “Absolutely crazy? Are you serious? Do you not see the two people next to you? Did you not see the 9 people sitting in front of you on stage at the Reaping? It _is_ possible to survive. They’ve done it.”

You look up at the ceiling briefly in a useless attempt to gain patience from whatever and whoever could be in the sky above you, before deciding to drop the subject despite the anger that fills you about it. You stand up, shoving your new notebook and writing utensils under your arm and grabbing your plate. “I’ll be finishing my meal in my room, if that’s alright.”

It wasn’t really a request, and no one argued as you quickly left the car. 

“Remember we have to watch the Reaping recaps later. Don’t be late.” Sven calls after you. You wave back at them to show you heard him, continuing on your way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know how you're feeling about everything! Next week we get to find out all about this plan we keep talking about. Can't wait to see you again!


	8. The Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that you finally have the time, you dive into your notebook to write out everything you can think of. This will be like your base of operations for the whole event.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Want a more immersive reading experience? Use the google chrome extension InteractiveFics to replace things like Y/N with words and names of your choice: [https://chrome.google.com/webstore/detail/interactivefics/pcpjpdomcbnlkbghmchnjgeejpdlonli/related?hl=en](url)

**_Y/N’s POV_ **

You sit in your room in the little cubby area by the window, notebook in your lap and pens at your side. But you haven’t started writing yet, instead you decide to look out the window and think about all of the Reapings you had just watched. 

After dinner you’d separated your notebook into sections to write in. The first part would be your personal history and stories, the second part was everything to do with the Games, and the last section was for all your letters home. You used your time after dinner to write down everything up until this point Game wise, so during the Reaping recap you could take notes on the other competitors. There were definitely a few things that caught your eye. 

Of course you wrote down all of the Tributes, but the Career Tributes were arguably the most important ones. They will be the biggest known threats in Game, at least right now. That might change a bit once you study everyone in training. While you didn’t get much solid information on anyone, due to it only being the Reapings, you did get a lot of potentially useful observations.

All of the Careers definitely look like they had been training their whole lives for this moment, they were confident and looked well trained. In what, you don’t quite know yet, but Careers are often deadly. The District 1 Tributes are Valentina and Broderick, both 18 year olds like you. District 2 has Nathaniel, a 17 year old, and Tatiana, an 18 year old. From District 4 you get Ricken, a 16 year old, and Sookie, a 15 year old. Despite the age variety, they all look ready for the task and quite intimidating. Almost all of them had volunteered. 

There was one 12 year old this year. A little girl from District 12 named Abigail. She seems shy and sweet, but surprisingly strong all things considered. Of course she looked scared, but she didn’t cry or shake or anything. That gets lots of points in your book. 

Marselle seemed to get progressively angrier every time someone volunteered, especially when the rerun of your Reaping played. You couldn’t tell what he was saying, but you did hear him grumble darkly under his breath. The rest of them gave him suspicious looks, so who knows, maybe they heard it. But your guess is that he’s rather bitter no one volunteered for him like you did for Jiah. 

Watching your Reaping over again is a bit of a surreal experience. It’s really different to see it through the eyes of someone else and figure out just how the Capitol wants to spin things to make it more interesting. It’s something you took note of for later. 

You hated seeing the look on Jimin’s face when his sister’s name is called. And watching the reaction of her and her mother again nearly kills you. What shocks you though, is what they show after you volunteer. You had difficulty watching Jiah break down again, but what really catches your attention is when they cut back to Jimin’s face. Maybe they expected him to be relieved, you know a part of you did. But instead, he looks even more devastated. He even starts crying, it cuts away as some of the others around him try to comfort him. 

You remember the announcers reactions rather clearly. 

“How brave of that girl to do that. I don’t think that family could go through that again.”

“But what about his reaction to her volunteering? He looked even more upset than when his sister’s name was drawn? Do they know each other?”

You definitely think they’ll be questioning all of you about that one. You figured it would happen eventually, but you guess it’s unavoidable happening this quickly with how things played out. You’re happy the conversation is already being brought up though, it’s a lot less work for you to bring it up when they’re already doing it for you. 

You stay for a little longer after the Recap in order to get a bit more information on the people representing this year’s Games. It’s also nice because they provide a bit more information on the Tributes themselves, as well as show the general reaction from the audience. You don’t get anything on anyone’s stylists or teams, though they did talk about how excited they were for the Chariot Ride.

The announcers for this year are the same as they had been for a little while. 

Caesar Flickerman is the main announcer. He’s known for being able to turn every conversation around into a positive. He is also famous for drastically changing his looks to a different color theme for every Game. This year he had chosen a bright fuschia. He always hosted the interviews in a midnight blue suit with little light bulbs decorating it. He’d been announcing the Games since the 50th run, and has remained virtually the same throughout it all. 

Claudius Templesmith is the co-host of the Games. He’s always showcasing a large and booming voice, coupled with a sense of superiority. He never really seems to show any sort of panic on air. He’s actually the one that makes all announcements in Game, always ending with the infamous phrase, “And may the odds be ever in your favor.”. He’s a lot more in the background and less vocal overall than Caesar. And while he is plenty charismatic, he is also outshined by his lead host in that category as well. A lot of people find him a bit more crude and reactive than Caesar's smooth and comforting demeanor. 

You shiver a bit when your mind goes to the Head Gamemaker this year, Vivienne Cassiopeia. She’s known for being one of the strictest and harshest Gamekeepers out there, always putting her Tributes through the worst situations. It’s the reason she’s produced some of the most brutal Victors in existence, and it seems like the longer she goes the worse it gets. Games 58 till now have all been under her control, and almost all of them have ended in Career Victors. Hell, just the last few years have been strictly Careers in the form of Enobaria, the District 2 Victor of the 62nd Game who‘s known for ripping out another tribute’s throat with her teeth, Gloss, the District 1 Victor of the 63rd Game, his sister Cashmere, the District 1 Victor of the 64th Game, and Finnick Odair, the District 4 Victor of the 65th Game. 

Vivienne is most famous for bringing new and strange ideas and themes to the table, creating some of the craziest and most unique Games that the Capitol goes absolutely insane for. 

You remember watching some of her Games and being absolutely in awe and terrified every time. She creates things like an unimaginably challenging and difficult to navigate ever-changing maze. Another time it was an incredibly intricate and dangerous underground tunnel and cave system, where all dead Tributes were transformed into mutated zombie mutts that would hunt down other Tributes, especially their killers. One time she even made an intense and deadly obstacle course that would be shut down by sections in order to kill off lingering Tributes in a race to the end. 

So you’re honestly quite horrified that she’ll be the one in charge of your Games. There is no way you can prepare for anything she would possibly throw at you, because it’s simply impossible to guess what will happen. All you know is that it’ll be taxing and extreme. It’s not out of your thought process that you might even have lasting effects or injuries from this if you somehow manage to get out alive. If you look at previous Victors, a lot have come out that way, whether that be missing a limb or even going insane from the experience. 

You sigh, and let your head fall back against the wall. You need to stop thinking about this, you have things to get done. This is your first full opportunity to start writing down your actual strategy instead of your personal experience so far. You plan to spend most of tonight focusing on that. The remaining time on the train tomorrow you plan to use to write down your life story. You’ll save the letters for right before you go in, and continue updating your experience and strategy as things happen. You also plan to watch old Games to prepare more during your free time the next week.

Shaking your head gently to clear it, you open up your notebook and grab a pen. 

* * *

_ So here I am. It’s my first night away from District 11, I’m on the train now. We should arrive in the Capitol tomorrow. This is it. I should really be sleeping right now, but I have some things to say before I do. I’m writing all of this down because I believe it is important to document this process. Not only will it help me explain and figure out my strategy, but I also want to write down all of my thoughts and feelings so I don’t leave anything left unsaid.  _

_ Because no matter how prepared I am, there is always the chance that I won’t be able to make it back home. Just like it was always a looming reality that I might be entered in the Games in the first place. Who knows, maybe before I give this back to Namjoon I can write letters to everyone. Then the other Victors can read it when they come to watch the Games live. And then they will be able to take it home with them if I don’t make it.  _

_ I might even say my thoughts and feelings out loud during the Game to log them. Maybe one of them will think far enough to pay attention and write it down for me.  _

* * *

You sigh again and sit back as you run your hand through your hair. There, the first part will be the hardest to say other than maybe writing the actual letters. It’s morbid, and honestly a bit depressing, but what part of this world you live in isn’t. You accepted the odds and came to terms with them long ago. Experiencing Jimin’s Games only made it more of a reality for you. Plus, getting started is always the worst part. With that out of the way you can get to the real important stuff.

Now you can dive into actual strategy. First, you need to focus on the actual Game related strategy. You settle down to finally write out your thoughts, knowing it will probably take a while. You first write down your base thoughts. 

* * *

**_My Odds_ **

_ May the odds be ever in your favor. _ _ A favorite saying from the Capitol that is in a way wishing you good luck in the Games. But here’s the thing, that phrase is ridiculous. In reality, odds have absolutely nothing to do with luck. Odds are based on math, it’s just that simple. It is something you can control quite a considerable amount. You actually are able to put the odds in your favor.  _

_ Now, most would say I’ve already lost based on the simple fact that I volunteered. I stepped up to the batter's plate, when my name wasn’t even drawn in the first place. Not only did that throw away my one hundred percent guaranteed chance at survival, but it has also put a huge target on my back. That’s not necessarily true, but we can come back to that a little later. _

_ Starting off, my chances are at 1 in 24, as there are two Tributes from each of the 12 Districts. Now, some would argue that those odds already don’t match up. You would naturally think that for example, a 12 year old girl, wouldn’t have the same chances at winning the Games as say a male Career Tribute. Hell, in general it’s accepted that most normal Tributes might not even stand a chance up against  _ _ any _ _ Career Tribute. Which, in a way makes sense, but it’s actually very wrong. _

_ If you pay attention to the winners of the Games throughout the years you would realize that the Victors come from all genders, ages, races, and Districts. Which means that statistically your odds of surviving are just as equal as any other competitor standing next to you. Because none of those factors really have any impact on your likelihood of survival. That point has just been proven over and over again the last decade or two, because we’ve had so many new District 11 Victors. _

* * *

Now on to your thoughts about the pregame aspect of things. You think about how much you have already struggled with eating as much as you can. You may not have been eating like a starving savage, but the rest of them have already noticed how large a quantity of food you’ve eaten, and it’s only been one night. You’re happy you could avoid their questions so well, and hope it keeps up this way. 

* * *

**_Pregame_ **

_ I need to prepare for the Games far before I even enter them. Everything I do from the moment I volunteer to the moment I enter the Arena matters. I have exactly one week to pregame. There are plenty of ways I can prepare to the best of my ability and give myself an edge on the other Tributes. For example, the first thing would be how I choose to eat. _

_ The best advantage I can give myself before I enter the Arena is carbo-loading. It may not sound like much, but it's very important to put on as many pounds as I can. I don’t know what Arena I’ll be entering, but there is a huge chance that there will be a big struggle for food. I could have to go on little to no food for weeks. And with all the activity I’ll have to do in the Arena I’ll be burning around 2,000 to 2,400 calories, at least, every day. Probably more than that, if we’re being honest. _

_ If I can load up about 5 pounds of extra fat beforehand, that would give me around 17,500 calories to survive on. That’s basically 8 and a half days worth of energy before my body starts shutting down from starvation. Which could get me a long way, if not most of the way through the Games in the first place. The length of the Games has taken anywhere between a few days and a few weeks. A considerable amount, and sometimes even half of the Tributes die in the pursuit of food. And, by the time you make it that far into the game, most other Tributes have been thinned out. So from a survival standpoint, being able to survive on your own for that long significantly increases your chances of winning in the long run. So I need to eat as much as I can while I have the opportunity. _

* * *

On to the topic of training. You’re glad you asked Namjoon and Yoongi about the Training Center at dinner. Now you have a basic idea of what tools will be offered to you and how to proceed. 

* * *

**_What I shouldn’t do:_ **

_ I also need to focus on spending my training time well. I have 3 days at the gym and I’m obviously not going to be able to build any new weapon skills in that amount of time. In fact, that might be the last thing I want to try and do. I need to avoid things like wrestling, weightlifting, and heavy weapons training like axes. Because these things are going to build my bulky muscles, which won’t give me an advantage, but will increase my metabolism. Which would make me burn more calories when I reach the Arena, reducing my time to starvation.  _

_ I am already in shape and have a considerable amount of muscle from working in the fields all the time. That should be able to hold me through well enough, I don’t need to build up any more.  _

* * *

You’ve covered what you shouldn’t focus on, it’s time to think about what you should. 

* * *

**_What I should focus on:_ **

_ So instead I should focus on the skills that will give me the highest survival rate. Around 10 Victors so far survived and won almost entirely on their passive survival skills. Again, for example, not starving to death.  _

_ Based on this learning edible plants and insects first is the best option for me. Though I know a fair amount about both thanks to having studied it plenty with Jillian, I don’t know everything. It never hurts to go over it again, and I know I need to learn more about insects anyway. Another important thing to learn would be fire starting, though that’s something I would have to be a bit more wary of during the actual Game. It’s still something that needs to be covered. Shelter building would also be helpful to learn.  _

_ Also, it's recorded that most of the 10 survivalist Victors also won because they hid for most of their Game. So things like learning basic camouflage and climbing skills would be a big help. It would give me both an offensive and defensive tactical advantage. Though I don’t necessarily need to worry as much about the climbing, since I’ve worked in the orchards. However, it's always good to improve and make sure. And camouflage is a must stop while training.  _

_ Climbing also has a bonus advantage because a lot of times people don’t even think to look above them in the trees. If they’re in the Arena and at my disposal, it might be a good idea to try and use them as my main way of transportation if I can. But that’s a very loose if, considering I don’t know what the environment will be like.  _

_ So general survival skills are a  _ _ must _ _. _

* * *

Now to weapons, because it's not like you can actually make it through a Game with no weapons at all. The fighting is the main event, and survival can only get you so far when you have an enemy running at you.

* * *

**_On the topic of weapons:_ **

_ Now, back to the topic of weapons. While it’s not really an option to weapon train while there, it is important that I know how to use something. Another major statistical advantage comes in studying blades. A considerable amount of the Victors’ choice of weapon were some form of blade. Realistically, you’re not really going to learn how to use a sword properly in 3 days. So the knife is the best option, and it's also the most likely weapon to appear in the Games.  _   
  


_ Around 8 of the Victors I can remember so far have specialized in blade usage, which helped them win. There are over 24 recorded weapons to have appeared in the Games so far. The likelihood of you finding rare weapons like a slingshot, or a scythe even, are about 1 in 25. But the Cornucopia often houses at least 3 different types of knife blades. Those being single sided knives, daggers, and throwing knives. Choose to specialize in knives and you’ve at least tripled your chances that any weapon you come across will be a weapon that you can use.  _

_ Sure, you might not get the type of blade you want. But any type of knife can serve roughly the same purpose. AKA, killing another person. But since they’re also so versatile, other Tributes will be carrying around knives as tools. Meaning that if I come across a dead body, the odds are much higher that they’re going to be carrying a knife for me to pick up more than any other weapon.  _

_ Knives are also one of the best offensive weapons to use to avoid getting killed by someone else. A lot of the Victors are known as “brutality based” Victors. Meaning that they fought using brute strength and their raw athleticism. These are usually your Careers or generally psychopathic Tributes. Statistically you want to do your best to avoid getting close to these Tributes because they do all their killing melee style.  _

_ On the other hand, you still need a method for taking them down if you need to. Because the odds are definitely not in your favor for killing them up close. But remember that knives are versatile. And you can double your knife use by having throwing knives. They give you a weapon to use at any distance, whether that be 20 feet away or close enough to actually stab someone.  _

_ I already have extensive training in knives thanks to Jillian. It was something he taught me in secret along with base survival skills and usable plants/bugs, because it was something useful. We also had plenty of access to knives thanks to our jobs as healers and my general work in the fields. Anywhere from throwing knives to a butterknife is something I’ve covered. Besides, when you work hard enough any type of knife can become a throwing knife. You just have to learn your way around the type of blade and the weighting. Then you just have to figure out the right flick of the wrist, and you’re good. So I’m pretty much set in that category. And I don’t want to risk showing it off in front of the other Tributes. So using it in my scoring test would be the best idea. I’d just have to do a few warm up throws to get the hang of the knives they offer.  _

* * *

Here is the point where you get to the actual Games. The biggest test once you enter the Games is surviving the first 10 minutes, as they are the bloodiest. The biggest decision you have to face is whether to run to the Cornucopia or not. If you’re not prepared, you have only a handful of seconds to make your decision. But you want to avoid that happening. 

* * *

**_First decision in Game, do I run to the Cornucopia?_ **

_ Hell no, I don’t. A lot of the time, around half of the Tributes die at the Cornucopia. That’s a rough average of a 40% death rate. Which immediately says that if you don’t participate in the Cornucopia bloodbath, your chances of winning instantly doubles. Going from 1 in 24 odds to almost 1 in 10. Sure, the weapons might be tempting, but the hand to hand athletes and Careers have a huge statistical margin here. Almost 85% of kills in a Game are committed in close quarters by Careers. By that time they won’t be starved, they’d be working in close range, and they would be hyped on adrenaline. So it would literally be the worst time to engage them. _

_ Yes, this would significantly decrease my likelihood of picking up a weapon right off the bat. But for the first several days of the Arena, lack of weapons doesn’t matter. My priorities in the Game will be the same as my training priorities. Survival first. In an ideal scenario, I want to aim for picking up a survival bag, box, or satchel from a totally unoccupied corner of the Cornucopia. Maybe even two if I’m lucky. And it’s definitely possible because I’m not really going to interact with another Tribute while doing so. And if it looks like a contest it's statistically better to abort than fight it out. So I need to play it safe, stay alive, and run away.  _

* * *

So the new issue now is what to do after surviving the first 10 minutes. Where are you supposed to go? 

* * *

**_What is my first step after surviving the Cornucopia?_ **

_ In a relatively good Arena I would have 3 days until dehydration, so by the laws of survival, water would be my first goal. Unfortunately the Gamemakers know this too. Around 6 of the Games documented used water as a weapon against the Tributes. The most common way is through thirst by making it poisonous, setting the Arena in places like a desert, or making it accessible in some weird way like tapping into trees. Statistically about 2/3s of the time there will be a major water issue, almost definitely a shortage. And that’s not even considering the fact that they might use water as an actual weapon against you, like making the arena all water based or flooding it.  _

_ So while everyone, mainly the Careers, are busy at the Cornucopia I need to scout the Arena. I need to find feasible water sources and test them slowly so I can avoid getting poisoned. If I manage to find a water source on my first day, I’ll be doing better than a majority of my peers.  _

* * *

Now you reach the issue of your interaction with others. This is extremely important, and some of the hardest strategies to deal with in the Game. Do you stalk other Tributes, or do you run for cover? Should you aim to be in a group, or go solo?

* * *

**_How should I interact with others?_ **

_ There are two main points when debating solo vs group survival. The advantages of solo survival are that you move quicker, leave less of a trail to avoid getting tracked, and you get a bigger share of essentials like food and water when the times get light. All of those are a really big deal, but there can also be an argument made for groups. Group survival allows you to hunt at a wider radius faster and doubles the odds that one of you will be carrying something useful when you need it the most.  _

_ But there is a fundamental problem, the goal here is not for all of your group to survive. It’s for you to be the only survivor. Which means that no matter how good your group is, eventually you all know you will have to kill each other. In fact, the further into the Games you get the scarier a group prospect becomes. You’re okay for the first couple days because there are enough enemies around to force you to stick together. But past that, staying with the group means you have better odds at making it to the end, but you’re tempted to kill each other the whole time.  _

_ Think about if you had a group of 3. If you team up to take out the Careers for example. Once you succeed, that’s great and all, but then you realize that you are now each other's biggest threats. Do you wait until everyone else is gone, or do you try and win by killing the others in their sleep? There is no way to judge when your group will turn on you, so should you be the one to do it first?  _

_ But there are even more risk factors than that. People in a group are often doing it to protect themselves from the most aggressive or dangerous competitors. So if you become the leader of a group early on, you become the biggest threat the quickest once your more powerful targets are dealt with. In the Games, you simply don’t get to be the second person to betray your group. Anyone who isn’t first, is dead. As a result, it's best to stay solo.  _

_ Now on to the issue of should I hunt or be hunted? In other words, would it be better for me to play offensively or defensively? It's a lot more complicated of a question than you would think. Statistically, about 60% of Victors played defensively until they absolutely couldn’t anymore. Which tells me that you should only be aggressive if necessary. And a considerable amount of kills in the Games are revenge kills. The probability of a revenge kill goes up dramatically if you’re the one hunting everyone else down. Especially if you’re trying to pick off members of an alliance like the Careers. Killing one of them dramatically raises your chances of being targeted and killed by a different one.  _

_ Again, anytime you signal yourself as a threat, you’re statistically more likely to die. So laying low and waiting for everyone else to stop surviving and turn on each other is not only the safest bet, but also the most effective route to victory. _

* * *

You need to talk about what will give you the best chance of survival. More than anything you could possibly do in the Games. Because it’s really not all about the Games. It’s also important to realize that this whole thing isn’t really a competition, it’s a competitive reality show. In fact, this might be the most important thing of all. No amount of stealth, survival skills, or killer instinct is a match for reality tv producers or the audience of the Capitol. It really shouldn’t surprise anyone.

* * *

**_What should I do when it comes to the social aspect?_ **

_ The Gamekeepers have a habit of pushing the Tributes closer together or further apart in order to make the Game more interesting, in case anyone hasn’t died in a while. We’ve seen it happen over and over again. We’ve also seen them target Tributes with specific traps aimed at them. When you watch reality TV you want a good story, compelling characters, someone to route for and against. You want to see growth, development, and in a lot of ways how people survive under the ridiculous pressure that the show producers put them under.  _

_ There’s a reason the Gamemakers only flooded an Arena once. Or why they only set the Hunger Games in the arctic once. Because it was boring. As horrible as it sounds, no one cares about kids who all drown or ones that just freeze to death instead of killing each other. The Hunger Games is about providing a good story.  _

_ Statistically, what gets people through the Hunger Games might have to do with their abilities, yes. But it has far more to do with how they impact ratings. Just look at the collection of interesting winners throughout the Games’ history. All their interviews tell interesting and compelling stories about who they are as individuals. They all have clear brands and are highly recognizable. These people are survivors because they know how to make themselves memorable. They’ve created interesting stories around themselves.  _

_ So let's go through again and see what the strategy looks like now. I need to keep up the personality I’ve already started to suggest and show on camera. When I arrive in the Capitol and interact with any of the citizens, it’ll be important to put my best foot forward. I need to seem positive, caring, confident, and honest. Which won’t be that difficult for me, even if I have to play pretend to make it happen. Next, I need to build my story early and there is no way I can play the cute kid card. Not only am I not really a kid anymore, but this is literally a show where you’re killing off children. So everybody is pretty sympathetic. Now you might point out that people like to root for the underdog. But most underdog's are so far behind that their chances of survival are astronomical. It wouldn’t be believable to shape them into a Victor.  _

_ When taking this into account, me volunteering for Jiah actually shoots up my chances of survival by a considerable amount since I gained the audience's sympathy immediately. Even if it did increase my odds of dying to begin with. Not that I was really aiming for it to do that, or even thinking of it that way, at the time. People will immediately know who I am now. I’ve immediately established myself as a brand and as a potentially interesting hero story, or tragic story.  _

_ Now, while I’m in the Capitol, my best chance to win the audience over is with a story about myself. It has to be something interesting, something that sets me apart from the other Tributes. Not for my skills or my abilities, but for the story the audience can watch unfold as long as the producers keep me alive. Maybe me getting off of living on the streets or why I specifically volunteered in place of Jiah? Though I would hate to use the people and experiences in my life as tools to win, it might be the best option for me. Maybe they wouldn’t mind as long as I try my hardest to come back alive? I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it even though the thought of doing that to them makes me sick. They don’t deserve that.  _

_ Now how would the social aspect affect the training? Here the Gamemakers are watching me. I need to think of this as a casting call. I need to pick a skill that distinguishes me from the crowd. That shows that I’m going to be an interesting character to follow. Sure anyone can throw a javelin or do a memory puzzle. But it needs to be something super deadly and memorable. The higher my Gamemaker score, the better my chances of winning the Games. Not only would it make me seem more skilled, it makes me more memorable. Things like a 10 to 12 would be ideal, not something basic like a 6. Maybe I can show off my knife skills here and do something extra to set me apart? But what would that be exactly? I’ll have to figure something out. I can think about it more later, while I’m actually training.  _

_ And now that I’m in the Arena, what do I do? Actually, the same thing I decided on before. Avoid the Cornucopia, not only because it's the best chance at survival, but because it also makes sure that your good character remains intact for the audience. You’ll look like the underdog that people like to root for, but not the one with astronomical odds against them. The goal is to keep sympathy on my side as long as possible. And I can’t do that with a multiple body count, or a body count at all.  _

_ Next, survive, because it demonstrates your clever survival skills to the audience. That they’re rooting for a smart and resourceful person. I should also still go solo because it will allow me to more fully distinguish my personality to the audience. They’d get to know me as an individual, rather than my group. And even if they may like me in a group at first, the longer I stay in an alliance the more likely I’d have to start killing people off. No one likes someone who turns on their teammates at the last minute. So being in a group hurts my chances of keeping the audience on my side in the long run. _

_ From there I would want to continue playing defensively, showing the audience that I only kill when I absolutely have to. I could wait for the Game traps to kill the last couple of opponents like they always do if I play it well enough. Ideally I might get to mercy kill one or two, since it’s really not unheard of. And I honestly would probably want to do that anyway, no matter what the other Tributes do to me. I’m not heartless.  _

_ And hopefully after all of that and a bit of luck, I would win. Because the audience wanted me to win. Because the producers wanted to keep me around for the storyline and the views. Sure you can make the whole thing about survival, but it's really about whether you accomplish the goal of the Hunger Games. Entertaining the Capitol and creating a decent story about 23 kids dying to remind everyone about the power of the Games. Jesus, I hate this. I need to stop writing for a while and get a hold of myself.  _

* * *

You groan and sit back after you finish all that writing. Dropping your pen, you roughly rub your eyes. God that was a lot, but you’re happy you got most of it covered. Of course, you’ll need to polish and change it a little, but your main thoughts are down. 

You look blurrily over at the clock and decide that now is definitely the time to go to bed. Sighing, you stand up, close your notebook, and shove it under one of your pillows. You don’t want to lose it or have anyone read it without your approval. At least, not yet anyway. With that you quickly set about getting ready for bed, closing the curtains, changing clothes, laying everything out for tomorrow, and setting your alarm. You need to be up early to continue writing, do your own personal deep self cleaning in prep for the stylist team, and to continue eating as much as possible while you have time. 

As you lay down in bed to sleep, you feel your heart ache at the lack of presence next to you. You’ve avoided thinking about how much you miss the others and how difficult it’s been without them for as long as you can. But being in a cold bed all by yourself really brings it crashing down on you. You’ve slept with Jimin every night for years now. It's honestly extremely difficult for both of you to sleep otherwise. You each comfort each other with your presence and, for the most part, chase away each other’s nightmares. Your most intimate and cherished moments were shared in that one location, and that missing piece has a huge impact on you. 

If a few tears slip from your eyes as you grip at the other empty side of the bed, then you ignore them. You try your best to push it away and shut off your brain, knowing that sleep these next few weeks will be quite difficult to come by, despite how necessary it’ll be. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, that was a lot. So many line breaks! It's weird to write so much of that in first person, especially cause it's still in the Reader's POV. We get to the Capitol next week, things are going to start to get interesting. Let me know what you're feeling in the comments and I'll see you next week loves!


	9. Cause It's Showtime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today you will arrive in the Capitol and participate in the Chariot Ride. Fortunately, or unfortunately, you garner a lot of attention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Want a more immersive reading experience? Use the google chrome extension InteractiveFics to replace things like Y/N with words and names of your choice: [https://chrome.google.com/webstore/detail/interactivefics/pcpjpdomcbnlkbghmchnjgeejpdlonli/related?hl=en](url)

**_Y/N’s POV_ **

As your alarm goes off you’re woken from your uneasy sleep, and you distantly notice you’d ended up cuddling one of the many pillows on your bed through the night. You know why, but you’d rather pretend you didn’t as you shove it roughly away. Luckily, you’re used to getting up so early despite how you’ve slept the night before. Having to get up even earlier than those working in the fields most of your life sure does that to you. Maybe you should tell Jillian thank you for forcing you to do all your medical prep work so early in the morning, if this is what came of it. 

Shutting off the alarm almost as soon as it goes off, you quickly throw the covers off and get up. You’re not really a morning person, you can be up and working rather efficiently, but it takes you quite a while to fully wake up. Normally people don’t talk to you within that time, unless you initiate conversation, for fear of you literally tearing them to shreds with your words and a harsh glare. There are very few people you allow to talk to you in that time without lashing out at them, and none of them are here on this train. 

But if you’ve learned anything in your many morning time ventures it’s that while you don’t want to get up, the best thing for you to do is just jump straight into it. Otherwise you’ll just never start or get anything done. 

You grab your notebook gear from under your pillow where you’d been holding it all night and quickly travel to the bathroom to get ready for the day. You purposefully got up early and put plenty of time aside to both get ready and then write some more. And you’re still probably going to finish it all before the others get up, or close to it at least. The sun isn’t even up yet, not that you can tell much through the near blackout curtains on the train. 

As you get ready for the day you think about just what you’re going to have to deal with today. The next few days are going to be so packed full of work, and you need to prepare for it all. It’s going to take a lot to show the side of you that’s needed to keep your strategy intact. You’re not quite going to be faking it, just over exaggerating a bit. And you’re going to be so hyper focused on over analyzing your surroundings and keeping up your act that you can already feel the exhaustion just thinking about it. If you think about it though, most of the mental stuff happens before the Games, and the physical stuff comes in Game.

Almost every free moment you get you can feel your hand automatically reach up to mess with your new locket. It’s the one thing you haven’t taken off this entire time, and you don’t plan to. Anytime you start thinking things over and it starts to feel anywhere near overwhelming, you suddenly notice yourself playing with it. You have yet to open it, you’re too afraid to look at his picture and miss him honestly, but it definitely provides an unbelievable amount of comfort to you. You swear you’re literally going to survive off of this locket and your notebook, you can already feel the ridiculous anxiety attached to them forming. 

You take a moment to pause and look at the outfit you had decided on for the arrival in the train station today. You’ve been told that you’ll see a lot of Capitol people around, which means lots of cameras as well. You picked an outfit that was manageable yet stylish and put together, that will hopefully leave a good impression of you on the citizens. Plus, looking and feeling nice is just something good. There’s a beautiful metallic skirt with a neutral colored top and a matching pair of heels. A nice bag, pair of sunglasses, and a watch tie the look together well, along with some more dramatic yet elegant makeup. You decide your general look is enough, so instead of doing your hair up like you did for the Reaping you keep it down in its natural form. Don’t want to go too overboard until your stylists get you, after all. 

After finishing your hour or two worth of prep work, you make your way to the dining hall to snack while you write. You swear your stomach is constantly going to be in a horrible state of pain and nausea with this carbo loading, but you refuse to throw up. This will pay off in the end, you know it. You just have to keep control of yourself, suck it up, and deal with it. 

Surprisingly, writing out in detail the story of your life and how you feel about things is probably the easiest thing out of everything you have to write. You would think it would all feel heavy and difficult, as all of it still feels fairly fresh sometimes, but it’s actually quite the opposite. It’s freeing and therapeutic, writing down everything in your head that you’ve always been afraid to say. For most of it you even forget that people are actually going to read this and it just seems like you telling this all to yourself again, which helps a lot actually. It feels great to finally put into words and finalize everything you’ve had in your head and your heart for so long. Whether you’re actually going to die doing this or not, this feels like closure, and it’s great. 

As you start finishing up you notice that the others are starting to filter in and out, obviously just woken up and still in different stages of getting ready. 

Both Yoongi and Namjoon show up before they have even gotten dressed in order to drink their much needed coffee and sit in a comfortable silence. They both then leave for a while, coming back fully dressed and in search of food. And then they disappeared again in order to finish getting ready and do who knows what. Probably some sort of Mentor stuff you don’t understand. 

Sven doesn’t come in to eat breakfast until he’s already completely woken and glammed up. He seems to be buzzing everywhere on the train, carrying packets, papers, and notes. Half of the time he’s on call and the other times he’s being followed by others who are listening to the orders he’s giving out. While he seems very busy trying to make your arrival as smooth as possible, he always takes the time to check in on all of you, sending you a smile and a few nice words each time. 

Marselle doesn’t show up until the very last moment to eat, barely awake and thrown together. Again he seems moody and like he doesn’t want to talk, so you simply leave him be. But he seems to be avoiding being in your presence for any longer than is absolutely necessary, which hurts a bit but it’s fine by you. You haven’t necessarily presented the best side of yourself to him, and you’re both going through your own rough time in the form of the same ordeal, so it makes sense. 

At some point, after quite a while of people watching, everyone eventually migrates into the train car as you near the Capitol. You move to sit by the window and chat with the others while examining the outside world. Marselle is quietly brooding in the corner, not really attempting conversation and ignoring it for the most part when it’s aimed at him. 

You can feel your nerves rising the closer you get to the city, your hands already caressing the intricate design on your locket in an attempt to drown it out. 

“That’s a beautiful locket, hun.” Sven says, startling you out of your thoughts. “It’s your Token, right?”

You blink and look over at him, your hand freezing in place. 

“Oh, thank you. And yes, it is my Token.” You say, blush forming on your cheeks. “Jiminie gave it to me right before the Reaping. He got us matching ones.”

While Yoongi jokingly gags and mumbles about disgusting couples and Namjoon rolls his eyes at him, Sven basically seems to melt, cooing about how cute and sweet it is. 

“Do they have pictures inside?” He asks excitedly. 

“Yes, of each other.” You inform him, though after you blurt it out you really don’t know why you said it. You’d rather not talk about it. The interest in something already so precious to you makes you nervous. 

“Can I see?” He asks curiously. 

Before you can really process what you’re doing, you snap, “I’m not taking it off.”

There’s a moment of silence following your outburst. It sounded panicked and sharp, like you didn’t want to part from it and became defensive at the very idea of it. You didn’t mean to say it, and it came out a lot harsher than it probably should have. Which is why it startles you and the people around you. 

“I won’t take it from you.” Sven promises, face softening. “I’d just like to open it up and see this boy you speak so fondly of.”

You try to relax your tense body and eventually nod your approval. As he comes to sit next to you you open the locket and turn it towards him, not looking at the picture yourself. 

He gently takes it between his fingertips and moves it around a little to get a better look, but he doesn’t do anymore than that. 

“He’s very handsome.” He says as he hands it back to you rather quickly. Though you probably wouldn’t want to keep it long either if someone was watching you like a hawk the way you were watching him. “He looks like a sweetheart.”

You close the locket without looking, holding it in your hands near your heart. “Thank you. He really is one of the sweetest people you’ll ever meet.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to meet him when the other Victors come to watch the Games!” He raves, clapping his hands cheerily. “Do you think they’ll interview him as well?”

You give him a hesitant smile, “Maybe.”

You start to tune it out again as he turns back to the others and starts ranting, “I’m simply so excited! He seems like such a wonderful boy. You’ve met him, right? What is he like-”

You clench the locket in your hands as you look out the window again. You really didn’t mean to react like that earlier, but you can’t deny the anxiety that filled you at the very idea of taking off the necklace and giving it to someone else. As childish as the thought is, it’s meant for  _ you _ , and no one else. You don’t  _ want _ anyone else to know about it. 

You can’t even believe you’d shown it to Sven, when you’ve been so set on not opening it or sharing it with anyone this whole time. You think you were so startled by the request and wanted to cover up your earlier reaction so bad that that’s why you did it. And to be completely honest, you don’t plan on doing it again. You definitely didn’t like the feeling. 

You’re brought out of your thoughts by everything going dark as you enter a rather dim tunnel. You’re moving too fast for you to really tell, but you think there’s paint on the walls showcasing different pictures and messages. Who knew there would be things like graffiti all the way in the Capitol? The more you thought about it the more you realized you probably didn't want to see those writings. 

“Alright.” Yoongi says rather tiredly. “In a few minutes we’ll arrive at the station. It’ll be quite loud and crowded because the people of the Capitol are encouraged to come and greet you. It’ll probably be pretty overwhelming.”

“We won’t spend much time at the station,” Namjoon informed you, “because as soon as we arrive we’re supposed to hand you off to your prep teams. I’m warning you now, they’re going to do plenty of things to you that you will not like. No matter what they do or how they decide to dress you, you need to just let it happen. Don’t fight them, it’ll just make everything worse.”

“Sounds like fun.” You say sarcastically. 

Despite that, you’re actually strangely excited as well as nervous. Sure there’s that fear in you that they’re going to dress you up in something absolutely ridiculous, and you hope that that’s not the case. 

But you are excited despite the next few hours of torture because you do enjoy dressing up. All the pregame of getting ready and chatting with others in order to look and feel hopefully beautiful and stunning is just something that you love doing. 

You’re excited to meet your stylist team and learn more about them, as well as see how your head stylist looks and sees you. You think it’s a special kind of art, what they do. 

The lighting starts to get brighter as you get closer to the tunnel’s exit and you can already hear the crowd nearby. You quickly get into position and after blinking the new blinding light out of your eyes, you notice the sea of people around you. 

There are so many colors, people in different extravagant outfits and wigs all in their specific style. They all seem so excited, pointing and waving at the Tribute train that is obviously arriving in the station. They sound so loud, all of them shouting out at you. 

You immediately start crowd pleasing, smiling, waving, laughing, you even make faces and throw in a few hearts here and there. They seem to love it, making the noise outside grow even louder as they begin to respond back. 

As you begin pulling into the station and the crowd fades from view you sigh and slump back against the window. 

“Exhausting, isn’t it?” Yoongi jokes. 

You laugh at that, but are soon cut off by an angry voice. 

“Why are you doing that?” Marselle snaps at you. “Why are you treating them so nicely? They’re the reason we’re walking to our death. All they want is for us to entertain them as they watch us die. It’s just a game to them, a little reality tv show.”

You blink at him for a second and silence fills the car. None of you expected that out of him. He sounds so angry and bitter, it’s far worse of an attitude than anything else he’s said or done so far. 

Not to mention how hurtful his words are. You see Sven look down at the ground, a horribly upset look on his face. He looks like he's near tears. 

“Well, it’s not their fault.” You say honestly. A part of you lifts up a little as Sven looks at you hopefully. 

“What!?” He growls out. “How is it not!?”

You hold your hands up in surrender. “Whoa, calm down. We’re on the same side here.”

You ignore the voice in the back of your head that says you are very much not. 

“I just don’t see the point in blaming them.” You tell him. “It’s not them doing all this, they have nothing to do with it. It’s all the government. Yes, these people just want entertainment, and some of them just see it as a show. And that’s fine by me, because that still means that in some way they care about whether I live or die. They will be the ones to sponsor my gifts should I need them in Game. They do care in some form.”

You take a deep breath and run a hand through your hair, looking out the window as you begin to slow to a stop in the station. “All they’re doing is taking what those above them tell them and doing as they’re taught and told. Everyone does it. We believe all those silly stories and legends our elders tell us. We still try and pass down our traditions and languages. And we try to listen and uphold the lessons our parents and those we look up to teach us, because that’s what we’re taught. It means something to us. They’re doing the same thing here. I can’t blame them for that. They don’t know anything outside of their own little world. Why would they want to?”

Your response seems to make him even angrier as his face turns a rather dark shade and he can’t manage to get anything but a few sputters out. Without answering he turns and storms out of the cart, Sven following a second later. How he could go to comfort someone that almost just dragged his name through the dirt baffles you, but deep down you also admire it. 

You sit in silence for a moment before Namjoon speaks up. 

“I can definitely see why Jimin likes you so much.”

“What do you mean?” You ask curiously. 

They both laugh at you. 

“You’re both so unbelievably caring and understanding. It’s honestly ridiculous.” Yoongi says. 

You don’t quite know what to say to that, not really understanding it fully still, but it turns out you don’t need to as the train stops and someone comes in to quickly usher you out onto the platform.

* * *

Meeting your Stylist Team is actually quite the affair. They all seem like really nice and hardworking people, who love what they do. They have such strong and unique personalities and ways of personal expression that’s so different from each other. Yet it all works together so well. 

You think your meeting went a bit different from the normal, as your Stylist was the one to first meet you at the station. Apparently you’re normally handed off to a Team for prep work so that you look decent before even meeting your Lead Stylist. And normally they’re the ones that do your full look after the Team is finished with you. You quickly figured out that that is not how this will go and that your team does things very differently. 

Isley Ray is the young Capitol woman to meet you at the station and introduce herself as your Head Stylist. She has wavy chocolate brown hair, with matching brown eyes, and a warm skin tone and smile. Her outfit is simple and comfortable, and a subtle mixture of similar patterns and colors. It was actually a very appealing monochromatic look. 

You quickly find out that she is new to the job, but is simply over the moon excited at the opportunity to showcase her work on such a large stage. She actually gushes for several minutes about her design ideas for your costume theme this Game. She says that since she first laid eyes on you she was struck by your unique beauty and was immediately flowing with inspiration on how to dress you up and make you look even more stunning. 

It has you blushing like crazy, being showered in so many of her compliments. You’re not unused to them, you and Jimin try your hardest to shower each other with love, affection, and compliments. That includes calling each other every pet name or term of affection under the sun. And those do make you feel happy and flustered, but it’s completely different coming from a stranger. It makes you feel a little embarrassed even though it isn’t a bad thing. 

“Have you heard the old legends about Mother Earth?” She asks you. 

“Of course.” You say. The people in your District absolutely love those types of legends. A lot of you still live and operate by them. Nature is a thing of beauty that deserves to be cherished and respected. It’s been here long before you, created you, and it’ll be here functioning just fine on its own after you. 

“I would hope so.” She says to you. “I did a lot of research into the legends of your District to find it. I believe that you would make the perfect Mother Earth, so that’s what your costume theme is this year.”

To say you’re speechless is an understatement. 

Finally, you get to meet your prep team. It’s a group made up of two girls and one male. They all seem to equally love talking and getting to know you as they all work to clean you up. They compliment you often, and you return it in kind. You honestly think they’re really sweet and can’t find it in you to treat them badly. By the end you wouldn’t necessarily consider them friends, but maybe it will end up happening by the time you finish it all. You do know that you’re already starting to have a soft spot for them. 

Quill is tall and pale, with silver blue eyes and platinum blonde hair that's shaved on the sides with intricate designs etched in. Her hair in the middle is kept longer and very curly, adding a lot of volume. She has several tattoos and piercings decorating her body, but somehow manages to make it look natural instead of overkill. Her outfit is bold and a rocker style, made of leather and decorated with a lot of studs and chains. She seems very intimidating at first, appearing rather cold and closed off, but you learn that she’s just a little antisocial and prefers to hide her softer side. She reminds you of Yoongi in a way. Her specialty seems to be more focused on the cosmetic side of things, as she does your bodypaint and makeup. 

Willow is short with straight deep red hair and green eyes. Her skin is a dark tan and she has freckles all over, though you can’t tell if it's all natural or fake. She’s content with not talking much, but has a rather cheerful personality. She’s a lot softer and calmer than the rest of the team, but still holds her own quite well. 

She likes her makeup and clothing a lot more subdued and natural, and has a huge respect and love for nature. It really shows in her work, as she is the one to do all of the natural objects in your costume. You were a little hesitant when they told you you would be naked and covered in nature. Moss, vines, mushrooms, sticks, flowers, grass, bark, you name it and it’s probably glued to you by the end of it all. And Willow is the only one allowed to mess with it. You’re actually a little shocked when she tells you she’s curious about what life in District 11 and what working the fields is like. She also seems to enjoy any information you can give on your medical plant knowledge as well. 

Flynn is debatably the most out there out of them. He’s by far the most vibrant with his style and the loudest of the group. He’s a medium height, just a little bit taller than you are. His hair, makeup, and clothing are all very bright and every color of the rainbow, he even loves mixing materials and patterns. Everything about him honestly seems like sensory overload, and it’s pretty overwhelming at first. He’s easily excitable, and rather bubbly. He’s actually the one that does most of the base presentability stuff, cleaning, waxing, and in general just making you look far better. You thought you’d done pretty well, but you just don’t have access to all of the things he does. He said he appreciates your effort and that you actually did a really good job though. 

Watching Isley work is something else. She gives off a very calm, caring, serious, and understanding aura, even when giving orders and laser focusing on making everything look the exact way she sees it in her head. It’s very obvious that she loves her work, as it seems to be the only thing she gets truly excited about. Her passion in the workplace is honestly something you already admire, even though you haven’t been exposed to it for a very long time. 

You’re shocked at how personable they all are. They express often how they want to learn as much about you as they can so they can represent you well and leave a good impression of you on the general public simply by how they make you look. It honestly didn’t even cross your mind that the people you work with and would represent you in the Games would care so much and want you to be friends with them. You just thought they would see you as another throw away person to deal with and decorate, once again. That you wouldn’t mean much to them because it happens so often and you’re most likely going to die anyway. But maybe part of it is your willingness to be friendly with them. 

Now that you think about it, most of the Tributes they see are probably terrified or unbelievably angry. Those aren’t really the ideal moods to talk to someone in. 

You don’t even register how long you’ve been at the Remake Center getting ready or how long you’ve been standing there letting them decorate your naked body. But it must have been hours if you had to guess. It somehow seems like it went by so slowly, yet also so quickly. 

“Enough brooding, darling.” Isley says, gently tapping the bottom of your chin to catch your attention.

You snap out of your thoughts, eyes quickly shooting up to look at her. Her eyes seem to sparkle with excitement and pride. 

“You’re all done.” She informs you. “Ready to see? Close your eyes.”

You hesitantly nod and she gently takes your hand to lead you towards the mirror, eyes slipping closed as she told you to do. 

Even when you stop moving, you don’t open your eyes until she tells you, “Alright, you can open them now.”

You do so hesitantly, suddenly very afraid of what you might see. But when you do you’re completely shocked into silence. You absolutely can not understand how the person staring back at you in the mirror is you. 

In a way, she looks like you. She’s the same height, and her body the same shape. Hell, even the scars are in the right places, though they seem far more apparent or highlighted than they normally look. But her skin looks rich and smooth, cleaner than you’ve ever had it. Her body is beautifully decorated with nature in a way that looks so natural it really does seem like she’d come straight from the earth itself. Of course, all of the more private parts are covered, but the whole get up doesn't really leave anything to the imagination. The metallic gold peppered around her skin makes her seem divine, powerful and otherworldly even. Your hair is almost completely covered by foliage in a messy updo, and what few strands you can see look light, wispy, and teased as they spread as far away from your head as they can. At some point without you really noticing much, they’d managed to get horns that looked like they were made out of bark on your head, adding yet another unnatural affect to the costume. 

Your breath is stolen from you. You look absolutely stunning. You can’t believe this is you. You can’t stop checking to make sure it’s actually your body, but it is. This is how the world is going to see you, the impression of you they’re going to get. 

You can’t understand how Isley had looked at you and been so inspired to make this up. No matter what those around you have ever said, you’ve never seen yourself as beautiful. Yet here you are for the first time in your life, actually seeing what others see in you. It’s honestly a pity it had to happen this way, when you could very well be walking into your death. But then again, this could be the best and most likely time for it to happen. You just wish you had been able to realise it sooner, after all these years. 

“Oh don’t get emotional, sweetheart.” Quill says. “We just finished your makeup. Don’t want to mess it up now, do we?”

You don’t even realise what your reaction has really been until they break you out of it. There’s no way you’d been so shocked and overwhelmed that you almost cried. Totally not possible. 

“Thank you.” You manage to choke out as you look towards the ceiling and take a few deep breaths in order to banish the tears welling in your eyes. You refuse to let them fall over something as silly as this. 

The rest of the team is immediately tripping over themselves to try and comfort you and assure you that it’s alright, it’s just their job. It actually makes you laugh. 

“That’s a winner right there.” Isley says pointing at you. “You should do that more. You’ll steal everyone’s hearts that way.”

You blush at that, even though you don’t need to steal anyone’s heart. You already have the heart of the only person you could ever want or need. You reach up to the locket they’d allowed you to keep on, the gold actually going well with the metallic paint and flakes scattered across your body. You’re a little afraid to admit that the only reason they let you keep it on is because you may have had a minor freak out when they had even suggested taking it off of you. 

“Let’s get you where you need to be.” Isley suggests and everyone begins rushing around in excitement, ready to clean up and go with. 

* * *

You’re a bit shocked to see Marselle once you’re all dressed up. It’s so interesting to see almost the same exact thing on someone else, because while you know you look similar you can’t really see yourself. So being able to really experience it in person is something else. 

It becomes very clear to you very quickly that they had either decided to focus more on you, it had simply happened that way, or your team just went overboard. Because while your costumes are very similar, yours seems to be a lot more in depth. Maybe that’s because there’s a bit less to do on a male body or something like that. But when you think about it, the legend is  _ Mother _ Earth. It doesn’t really say anything about a male counterpart, so maybe that’s why the distinction was made.

Whatever it may be, Marselle is clearly uncomfortable. So you don’t look at him long, you pretty much avoid it in fact. After you tell him how good he looks and he snaps at you, embarrassed, you decide to leave it be. He looks like he’s trying to shrink away from prying eyes and disappear into the floor. 

It works out to your advantage, because you certainly don’t mind the looks or the attention. Some seem shocked at your confidence, or maybe they’re just looking because you’re literally near naked in front of them. People are still shooting you looks and you haven’t even gone out yet. It isn’t something that bothers you because you’ve long since been desensitized to it from your time on the streets. You’ve never been one to care much about the looks you recieve or your appearance. 

You remember laughing at the shocked expressions on people’s faces when you walked in. Yoongi and Namjoon’s mouths even dropped open, while Sven absolutely could not contain his excitement. You notice that while you do keep getting looks, everyone that is not from the Capitol seems to avoid talking to you in this state, looking rather uncomfortable or embarrassed to be around you. Again, you don’t know if this is just from the nakedness or if it’s because you look damn good and you know it. 

You spend time idly chatting as the team continues to make touches if needed to make sure everything will be perfect for the ceremony. You use this time to examine the other Tributes and how they interact with others as well as each other. 

Most seem rather uncomfortable, but there are a few that seem overconfident. Perhaps they already feel threatened by their competition and that’s why they’re so boisterous with their interactions. Or maybe they just believe in their abilities so much that they simply don’t care and really do think themselves better or above everyone. You’re all really on an equal playing field here, so you find it a bit ridiculous. But you do understand the necessity of it. 

While you spend your time observing, others spend it trying to get to know others or keeping to themselves. The more charismatic Tributes are seeking out others, probably in hopes of forming alliances now or later on. You make a mental note of that, as it will probably continue throughout interviews and training. You need to figure out everything you can about all of them to be as prepared as possible. You can already feel your hands basically itching to write down new information, but instead you absentmindedly fiddle with your necklace. 

Before you know it, you’re all told to enter your Chariots. You can hear the opening music blasting around you, and it only gets louder as the doors begin opening. Suddenly the roar of the crowd becomes rather apparent, and the more the world outside is revealed to you the more nerves in the Stable area seem to shoot up. God, there are so many people. It’s so loud. 

You can see Marselle start to shake with nerves from the corner of your eye and you can’t stop yourself from gently grabbing his wrist and telling him, “It’ll be alright.”

He quickly yanks his wrist out of your hand and shuffles as far away from you as he can, which isn’t far because the chariot is honestly tiny. You simply raise an eyebrow at him, unimpressed, before taking your eyes off him and turning back to the front. You’re awfully close to the exit now. 

With the little time you have remaining until the crowd spots you, you take a deep breath to calm your nerves. As you slowly let it out you begin to move forward, your already fairly familiar facade falls into place. Once again as you’re faced with a crowd of people, you seem to have no issue engaging with them as much as possible. 

As soon as your chariot begins to enter the streets you can already hear the chants of “District Eleven!” At some point it shifts to your names being called as well, you assume that they have gotten it from their pamphlets as you don’t know why they would ever remember your names on their own. You are being showered in thrown flowers, you even catch a few and add them to either your costume or the decorated Chariot after taking the time to smell them and send a thank you in the general direction they came from in the form of a heart or flying kisses. Everyone seems to want a reaction from you, to interact with you. You try to engage with as many people as you can in as many ways you can think of. It fills you with a special kind of energy and feeling that’s a bit difficult to sort out. 

You can hear the crowd cheer louder every time a new round of people see your costumes. The sound already seemed unbearable, but the longer you go, the louder it all seems to get. Yet at the same time with the adrenaline running through you and the long exposure to such a loud noise, it feels like your ears are ringing and the sound is becoming more muted. You’re surprised by just how long it all seems to last, but maybe that’s because you’re one of the focuses of all the energy. 

When it all finally ends, not only is your head spinning, but your face honestly hurts from all the smiling. You’ve moved quite a lot, as much as being trapped in this tiny chariot with another person has allowed you. You don’t know how all your special effect things stayed in place, but it makes you a bit nervous to get it off later. Despite it all, you still have to keep up your act until you’re finally away from prying eyes. 

You stop in City Circle for a while and listen to the President give a welcome to everyone as the start of the Games. You don’t really pay attention to who the camera cuts to during it, knowing that they tend to focus on all of the Tributes. The energy and reaction is slightly different in this area, as the surrounding buildings are filled with the highest ranking Capitol government members and anyone having to do with the Games. They’re a lot calmer and more reserved in their show of admiration, and their gazes are far more piercing. 

It’s really strange to think that these will be the people literally paying to keep you alive in Game. Or that they'll be the ones actively trying to kill you for a good show.

As the National Anthem plays, you are once again whisked away. But this time into the Training Center where you will be spending all of your time until the Games. 

You try to take in all you can of your last moments in the outside world, and you can’t help but have your attention drawn to the beautiful setting sky. This may be the last chance you get to see the actual sunset instead of some fake Arena hologram. You suddenly wish you’d appreciated it more all the times you had seen it before, as you find it unbelievably stunning now. Your chest suddenly aches as you wish Jimin is here with you. 

Of course, you know that you’ll be able to see the sunset, and even the sunrise again. From what you’ve been told there will be balconies and even a rooftop garden that you’ll have plenty of access to, which you plan to use as well. But that just isn’t the same. This is the last time you’ll be relatively free out in the world. The last time you can truly interact with what and who is around you and have a response back without it all being set up and you being trapped where you are. You know it seems a bit silly, as none of you are really ever truly free with a government like this, but it means a lot to you and now you’re going to lose it. 

And then, it’s all gone. 

* * *

You sigh as you fall back onto the couch in your communal floor living room a considerable time later. It had taken quite a while for your team to help you take off all of your costume and makeup. It wasn’t quite as bad as you had feared it would be and you didn’t really realize how comfortable you become in it until you had finally gotten all of it off and changed into a normal outfit again. It really wasn’t that bad, and you feel boring now that you’re the same as always. 

You can hear Namjoon laugh at you, “Glad it’s finally over?”

“What are you talking about?” You ask sarcastically, your reply slightly muffled as you lean your face into the pillow. “I absolutely  _ love _ working a crowd like that.”

Yoongi snorts in the chair across from you. “Sure, cause that's convincing.”

“You really do look like you belong in the center of attention when you do it though, dearie.” Sven promises. “I would be completely convinced if I didn’t see how you acted normally.” 

“Nice to know, I guess.” You mumble mostly to yourself as you decide to grab the pillow to your chest instead and turn towards the rest of the room. “Do you think I did a good job?”

“Of course.” Namjoon tells you immediately. 

You're a bit hesitant to believe him, as that's kind of what he has to tell you, but when you look towards Sven to confirm it he says, “Darling, I already have a million people tripping over themselves to talk to me about you. You’ve already stolen their hearts. And I think it’s obvious since you by far got the most screen time during the President’s Opening Speech. The whole chariot ride, actually. The cameras and the crowd love you.”

_ I did? _ You think to yourself. But before you can do anything else with the thought, Sven is already continuing. 

“Of course,” He says. “I can’t make any sponsorship deals myself. That’s up to your Mentors. But I’m happy to answer questions and keep up the interest in you.” 

You smile into the pillow as your eyes fall to the floor. That’s good, it makes you hopeful that you might actually have a chance to survive this. Audience opinion really is everything. 

But then you think about Marselle and your heart drops, causing you to hug the pillow tighter and hide your face more. Technically, you’re enemies. So you shouldn’t want him to do well. But it still upsets you that everyone seems to be talking about the effect you had on people and saying nothing about him. If nothing’s really being said about him, that doesn’t really promise anything good. You can kind of understand why he might hate you now. It really does seem like you’re taking everything from him. 

“Hey, don’t fall asleep now. We still have to eat dinner.” Yoongi says.

“Mmm.” You hum in response. You sure feel exhausted, but how can you fall asleep when your mind is being so loud?

“Did someone bring my notebook?” You ask them. 

“Yes.” Sven informs. “One of the helpers put it in your room.” 

Now with a task in mind, you quickly go searching for it. You find it on your bed, but decide to take some time to explore your room. It’s a lot bigger than what you had on the train, and filled with even more things. Which you didn’t really think was possible, but here you are. While you do have a plan and tend to enact it to the best of your ability, you also want to take the time to relax and really use all the things at your disposal to your advantage. These could be the last few days you have, why not live it up a little? 

Some of the things you’d already enjoyed using are changing the window to match the scene you want and the area to get snacks. After scrolling through the different view options, you end up choosing a nature scene that reminded you very much of home and gathering herbs in the fields while the sun came up. Though to be honest, the ocean one was very tempting to you. The machine that allows you to get any snack makes it so much easier for you to get food and not have to bother others. You definitely plan to take advantage of the closet, shower, and makeup later. But right now you have things to do.

Grabbing your notebook you decide to update your journal in the living area while waiting for dinner to be set up. As you do so, you mention to Sven that you plan on using those recordings of previous Games during your free time while here to research and refine your strategy. The rest of them say they’ll probably be in and out to help with that, but none of them really have the time or desire to watch all of it with you. 

Dinner is a simple affair, you talk a fair amount about unimportant things. But most everyone is in their heads trying to work through things and plan where to go from here. That being said, you have noticed quite quickly that things have all gotten a considerable amount louder now that the Stylists and their Teams are staying near you. They'll be around a lot more often, and while the 5 of you original people can talk when you feel like it, you tend to be fairly quiet and withdrawn compared to them. They definitely can fill the silence and don't seem bothered doing so. But while they provide that, they also give unique assets to the team and your strategies with their perspectives, views, attitudes, and ideas. Which is honestly a welcome addition anytime in your book. There's always room for improvement and another side of an issue to gather information from. 

After dinner you decide to write out everything you already know going into the Games. Any survival techniques, plant knowledge, weaponry experience, etc. After that you finally decide to state in detail what you need to focus on before entering the Arena training wise. You have already discussed a lot of it briefly in your strategy explanation, but you want to put down your thoughts more clearly before you actually get in there. 

Keeping this thing up to date and full of all the information you need is taking up a lot of time, but you feel it necessary. You want it all down somewhere, so you can't say you didn’t tell others of it. You keep having to write multiple times a day, for quite a while, but you know it will all be worth it. Despite the sore wrists and hands it might give you. You are basically one of your District’s only “doctors”, so you have the ability to use both your hands equally. You also have the gift of steady hands, though that’s something that just comes with a lot of use of them through your work. 

You’re brought out of your writing and musing by the others settling down around you to watch the recap of the Opening Ceremony. Watching it back, you’re absolutely fascinated by how you look on screen. You really do seem like a completely different person, beautiful and untouchable, yet also caring and charismatic. It matches up nothing with the image of yourself you have in your head, both before the Games and now that they've started. Your earlier thoughts of being far too cold and calculating with your mind, words, and actions are a million miles away from the image before you on the screen. 

You also realize that you do in fact get the most screen time like Sven told you earlier. It’s strange, you definitely didn't believe it before. But the proof is right there in front of you. Not only does everyone seem mesmerized by your looks and performance, you are too if you’re being honest, because of how much screen time you get and how much the announcers talk about it, but also almost all of the reviews and crowd commentary has something to do with you as well. 

While the others praise you for it, you simply carry the praise over to the Stylist Team. After all, they did all of the work. You literally just stood there and tried to look pretty.

When you think about the implications of it all though, you’re left with a brief moment of fear. You already have quite the target on your back, and this just makes it a whole hell of a lot brighter. Everyone is talking about you, like you’re the important one, the one to beat. And while that may be good when it comes to the audience, it spells quite the amount of trouble for your interactions with the other Tributes. And considering they'll most likely be the ones personally responsible for your death should it happen, the thought is terrifying. No one seems to notice your reaction though, focusing more on the TV and conversation amongst themselves rather than anything else. 

As everyone else leaves you decide to update your journal with your new thoughts yet again, even though you don't have much to say this time. It's still just as important as the rest of it. 

Eventually, quite a while after everyone else has said goodnight, you decide to finally wrap it up and go to bed as well, knowing the next three days of training will be quite a challenge for you. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first big event of the Games, how exciting! More relationship building with some OCs, sorry but it's gotta happen. I've put a lot of time and effort into thinking up every part of this story, and I'm pretty proud of the personalities I've created to fill in the gaps.
> 
> Anyway, next time we tackle the dreaded training period. I hope you're excited for that! Let me know what you're thinking and I'll see you next week!


	10. Training

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your real training begins, and you find yourself stuck on what to do with a certain problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Want a more immersive reading experience? Use the google chrome extension InteractiveFics to replace things like Y/N with words and names of your choice: [https://chrome.google.com/webstore/detail/interactivefics/pcpjpdomcbnlkbghmchnjgeejpdlonli/related?hl=en](url)

**_Y/N’s POV_ **

Once again, you wake up early and get ready. Isley’s left you a simple outfit that you know you’ll be able to move well in, even though you’re not really going to be doing a whole lot of physical activity. It’s made of neutral and muted colors, and you definitely think that it’ll assist you in staying in the background and being more unnoticed compared to the others. It’s comfortable on and honestly feels like a second skin. 

You don’t spend long getting ready, deciding instead to spend the majority of your morning on the rooftop garden to watch the sunrise. It gives you time to think and take a break from everything, which you think is becoming more and more necessary. It’s nice, no notes to take and no people to perform for. You’re able to just sit and not think about the Games for once, in the quiet and calm air as you watch the people of the Capitol wake up very distantly below you. 

Eventually you realize that it’s probably time for you to go down and eat breakfast with everyone. You’ll probably need to go over strategies one more time before you enter training, just to make sure you’ve covered it all and that you’ll actually carry it out well. 

With a sigh, you stand up and make your way down. You definitely think you’ll try to spend your mornings doing this from now till the Games, you’ll probably try and watch the sunset as well. It’s something you want to appreciate before you go into an entirely simulated environment. 

When you arrive, you find only Sven and the Stylist Teams up and at the table. You chat for a while while waiting for the others to come join you. Most of the conversation focuses on how you feel about training. Things like what you’ll be focusing on, how you plan to interact with the other Tributes, and what you think you’ll do for your scoring test. It’s nothing too deep or detailed, they’re simply curious and not interested in strategizing it all with you. That’s technically Yoongi and Namjoon’s job. 

When everyone arrives, the conversation is actually a lot briefer than you thought it would be, at least on your side. They just run through things really quick with you before focusing on Marselle, as it’s obvious you understand what’s going on and what to do. He, again, seems bothered by this, but also resigned to it. 

You notice that his outfit is different from yours. You guess from now on they probably plan to separate the two of you as a pair. After all, everything else from here on out is done individually, like your training, scoring tests, and interviews. While you’ve tried your best to subtly separate the two of you throughout this whole process in an attempt for you to do well, you knew that you wouldn’t really be seen as different entities until today. But it is a huge relief to finally see this shift in perspective, even if you hate having to think about it this way. 

Before you know it, you’re being ushered into the elevator and transported to the gym to start your training. The ride down is rather silent, Marselle shifting back and forth nervously in the corner but refusing to say anything. So instead of talking you decide to watch the levels go by through the glass as you play with your locket. Right as the doors open though you decide to straighten up and can’t help yourself from slipping out a quiet, “Good luck.”

To your surprise he looks at you wide eyed, gulps, and then nods back in return. You take that as progress and a good luck wish back, which actually makes you smile as you step out of the elevator. 

You’re some of the first Tributes to arrive, which just means you have to wait for the others so you can all be briefed on the rules and operation of the Training Center together. Unsurprisingly, the other Tributes here early and eager to start are the Careers for this Game. You can feel their sharp gazes on you as soon as you step out of the elevator, overanalyzing everything about you and sizing you up. Their eyes flick briefly to Marselle and the others as they enter, but for the most part they keep shifting their attention back to you. 

You can definitely tell now that you’ve indeed threatened them already, and they already feel the need to be defensive about it. God, these next few days are going to be a bitch if all they’re going to do is watch you, show off, and taunt you. 

Too bad for them you won’t be giving them anything to be wary of. No weapon work or fighting skills allowed here, just survival activities. Hopefully that will sooth their bruised egos enough for you to survive till the scoring tests, after that you’ll be free game though. And if your plan to be scored highly goes well, they’ll really have it out for you once you enter the Games. So you guess you have that to look forward to. 

Despite their attention, you don’t falter. You remain confident and keep your head held high. You will not submit to them or show that anything they do bothers you. In fact, you intend to completely ignore them and not participate in their little competition, which could in turn make them even angrier at you, but you don’t really mind. 

You believe in your abilities and will use this time to analyze the other 23 Tributes to see their strengths, weaknesses, and figure out the best way to deal with each one of them in Game should you absolutely need to. 

Before they explain the gymnasium rules, you all get your District number pinned on your shirts in the most visible place possible. You don’t really react to the Avox that puts their hands on your body without asking, besides giving them an almost unnoticeable nod. 

You’ve definitely already been briefed on the proper way to treat them. They’re traitors and criminals of the Capitol that get punished by losing their tongue and being forced to serve others without question for the rest of their lives. They’re seen as less than human, are punished quite easily for their performance, and are not to be spoken to unless giving an order. They’re meant to be shown no respect at all, because that is what they are believed to deserve. 

And you think it’s bullshit. You refuse to treat someone so horribly when they are simply doing their job and helping you out in any form. Sure, you’re not really going to try and talk to them and have a conversation, but a nod of respect and thanks here and there doesn’t do much. You also don’t see the issue of saying please, thank you, and I’m sorry when speaking to them and requesting something. You will not order them around, but you will ask. So far it hasn’t really been noticed by those around you as it’s all subtle and they probably just think it’s you being a polite person from a District that doesn’t know any better. 

The rules are simple and what you expect. This is your time to train, there are many stations here with instructors for you to use. There is no fighting with other Tributes, but if you wish to spar or work with someone else an instructor can step in to help. You will be watched throughout your training to help the Gamemakers give you your final score, but most of it relies on your Scoring Test at the end of the 3 day training period. 

As soon as the Head Trainer, Gabriel, lets you go, the Careers go straight to the dangerous weapons and obstacle courses and you go to the survival stations. Basically all the other Tributes take some time to hover around, obviously overwhelmed by all the choices and not knowing where to start. Plus, they seem pretty intimidated by the Careers already. Some of them walk around slowly, trying to figure out which stations are here and what they should do. You’re happy that you both asked ahead, figured out what to do, and scoped out where everything was while waiting earlier. 

For the most part, you ignore the Careers showing off and the others fumbling around. But when they aren’t looking, you examine them to the best of your ability. You note which stations they all go to, how good they seem to be at all of them, where they seem to refuse to go. You debate holding back on showcasing your abilities so they’ll underestimate you, but since it’s just basic survival and easy to overlook, you decide against it. Besides, that would limit the amount you actually get to improve and learn, and would possibly lower your potential score due to the Gamemakers watching. 

You don’t get much on everyone, but it is only the first day. However, you do note some rather important things you believe will come in handy later. While doing weaponry you notice that Ricken, the 16 year old male Tribute from District 4, favors using dual sais or daggers when fighting, and Sookie, his female counterpart, prefers to use a bow and arrow. Broderick, the 18 year old District 1 male Tribute, likes to use a sword. Valentina, the 18 year old District 1 female Tribute, seems to specialize in knives just like you do. You can’t see any preferences yet from the District 2 Tributes, Nathaniel and Tatiana, but you’re sure you’ll figure it out by the end of training. Other than that, no one really touches the weapons. 

"Hey, District 11!" A shout breaks you out of your work at the fire starter station. Your head snaps up and your eyes focus on the group of Career Tributes nearby. The one standing in front who appeared to have called out is Broderick.

As soon as they notice they have your attention Valentina speaks up. 

"Why don't you stop playing with sticks and come show us what you’ve got?" She suggests. 

Deciding to just ignore them, you go back to starting your fire. 

"Oh, what's wrong 11." Ricken taunts. "Are you afraid? Where's all that confidence and charisma now, huh?"

They all have a good laugh at that, while you just roll your eyes and continue ignoring them. 

"Come on!" Nathaniel sneers. "It'll be fun, I promise."

After a few moments of silence Tatiana says joyfully, "I think she's scared guys!"

"All that bark and no bite." Sookie agrees. 

"Such a shame." Broderick says mockingly. 

Thankfully, with that they've seemed to have their fun. So you both go back to what you were doing without much interruption. 

You notice that the Gamekeepers tend to keep to themselves. They have their own private area in high risers above you so they have a better angle to watch you from. Sometimes they'll break away from their luxurious holdings and delicious feast and come down to the floor, though you don't know how or where. When this happens they walk around, observe, and take notes. However, most of their information gathering comes from watching, scoring tests, and talking to your instructor while you eat.

* * *

Lunch is a bit chaotic. All your other meals are in your District floors with your personal teams, but someone had the brilliant idea of forcing all Tributes to eat together during the training period. Naturally, the Careers stick to their group and decide to raise all hell. 

While the rest of the District members decide to sit alone or with their partner. The rest of you are quiet and eat quickly, though a lot of them seem to struggle to eat at all. Maybe they're too nervous. This whole time they've been jumpy, like they expect someone to jump out of nowhere and kill them. Which is a bit ridiculous, as you all well know that's saved for the Game. 

You decide to eat quietly in a spot where you can see and hear the conversations of everyone. You kind of wish you could take this time to continue taking notes, but you don’t even know if that’s allowed and don’t want to risk others stealing or seeing it.

* * *

So that’s how your three days of training go. Filled with honing your survival tactics and basic fighting skills, avoiding weapon work. A lot of your days are filled with taunts and jeers from the Careers, but you decide to ignore it all. You really do think you made a good decision with it all, only focusing on about half of the stations gives you a lot more time to work and perfect each category, more than you would have been able to otherwise. It makes you feel pretty good about your skills going into things. 

Breakfast and dinner are spent with your teams, constantly updating and working on your strategies, while lunch is spent in the same situation as the first day. You spend all your free time between training and team gatherings rewatching Hunger Games recaps and writing in your notebook. Your mornings and nights are spent taking a small break by watching the sun rise and set. You continue to eat as much as you can, and take plenty of time to enjoy all of the expensive Capitol things at your disposal.

The biggest dilemma you have about the whole situation is trying to figure out how to score high in your test. Of course, skill will get you somewhere. And you’re hoping that you focusing on mostly passive skills will aid in that by shocking them with your actual weapon skills. Hopefully them not expecting it will help out. 

With that being said, you’re afraid that won’t get you very far. After all, the Careers are all showing the weapon proficiency for a larger category the whole time. You being really good at one weapon for a small amount of time might not count for much. 

So what do you do about this? Well the obvious solution is that you have to do something big. You have to catch their attention, but also show just how much of a threat you can be. But how are you going to do that? You’ve been trying to come up with things and it’s honestly frustrating you. For what feels like one of the few times in your life, you have absolutely no idea what to do. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, I'm getting excited. Next we have the scoring test, then interviews, and then we dive into the actual Game. Shit is about to go down, I hope you are ready. 
> 
> Please let me know what you're thinking. I'll see you next week.


	11. The Scoring Test

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for you to face your judgement. Okay, so you may have fucked it up...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Want a more immersive reading experience? Use the google chrome extension InteractiveFics to replace things like Y/N with words and names of your choice: [https://chrome.google.com/webstore/detail/interactivefics/pcpjpdomcbnlkbghmchnjgeejpdlonli/related?hl=en](url)

**_Y/N’s POV_ **

“Y/N L/N.” The call of your name breaks you out of your brooding next to Marselle. 

You sigh as you stand up, running a hand through your hair. 

“Well, I guess this is it.” You mumble to yourself and begin to make your way into the gymnasium. 

“Hey, Y/N.” You hear a soft call behind you. 

You turn back with a raised eyebrow, to see a very nervous Marselle looking back at you. He’s been constantly shifting next to you the whole time you’ve watched the Tributes disappear for their scoring tests. He hasn’t said anything until now though, probably too freaked out or just not wanting to talk to you. 

“Good luck.” He says simply. 

You hesitate for a second, surprised by his well wishes. Maybe it’s just his return for when you did the same thing before all this training started. 

You don’t hesitate long, though. 

“Thank you.” You say with a smile. “You too.”

And with that, you turn and continue walking towards your judgement.

* * *

The first thing you notice in the otherwise empty room is that the Gamemakers are starting to be served their dinner. Unsurprising, considering just how long all of this has taken. And they still have 4 more people to go. 

As you make a beeline for the knife throwing station you realize that some of the Gamemakers are far more interested in the food and each other than the person they are supposed to be paying attention to. You try to push your frustration at those actions away. They’ll watch you. They have to, it’s their job. It’ll be fine. 

Taking a few of the knives off the array you fiddle with them for a bit, testing out the length and the weighting. You fake a few throws, trying to calculate how it might end up going. Once you’re satisfied enough with your findings, you decide to do a few test throws just to make sure. 

Naturally, they aren’t too bad, but they aren’t great either. It only takes a couple for you to figure it out and feel confident in your ability to perform. Your eyes flick up to the Gamemakers briefly as laughter fills the room. You grit your teeth and try to ignore it. They’re just watching you warm up. They’ll realise how powerful you are in a second. They’ll keep watching. 

Without needing any more encouragement than that, you pick up several knives and quickly throw them at a deadly speed and accuracy, hitting targets both still and moving at all distances offered back to back. 

After, you take a moment to pause and take a deep breath. There, that should be alright. Now you can move on to other knife work, before showing some fighting skills and then some survival tactics. Just so you can cover everything and really show them how much of a threat you can be.

But when you don’t hear any reaction from the Gamemakers you decide to look up and find out why. That’s when you realize that they haven’t been paying attention to you. Immediately anger fills you. You mean they took your warm up as your actual test? That they decided you weren’t worth it and to focus on other things despite your test being nowhere near over? 

You try to crush your rising fury, but it’s hard when they just continue talking and eating. Suddenly, a thought fills you. Did they do this to Jimin? Is that why his score hadn’t been so good? With that now in your head, all your caution flies out the window. The very idea pisses you off and there really is no way for you to rein it in. 

Your vision goes red. 

An idea pops into your head, it’s very risky, but it would definitely get you their attention and give you that extra push you’ve been struggling to come up with the past few days. The problem is, it’s foolish. But as soon as it’s in your head, you push the consequences away and your body moves without you really registering. 

The sound of several heavy  _ thunks _ echoes through the room and everything goes silent. The Gamemakers look down at you in complete shock as you simply glare up at them, infuriated. With probably too much satisfaction, you watch as a few of them try to pull out the knives you had just lodged into the walls around them. You hit a few fruits, pinned some of their clothes or hair against it, and even knicked one or two on their cheek or their ear, causing some blood to flow. 

As soon as you know they’re all paying attention to you, you grab more knives and continue to throw them rather viciously until all targets are hit as quickly and efficiently as you can. Without even looking back, you storm over to the other knife station, quickly picking up dual daggers and destroying some dummies. 

After you’re finished, you look up at them defiantly, breathing heavily. They seem stuck in disbelief, though some of them are starting to become outraged. Not wanting to be here anymore, you completely throw away your remaining plan to show off your other skills. They’d seen that from you all week, and you think shredding some dummies is good enough proof you can fight, so you’re sure you’ve left a good enough impression. 

So with that you wipe your body of all traces of anger, giving them a beaming smile, an elegant curtsy, and the sweet saying of, “Thank you for your time, I really appreciate it. I hope you all have a  _ wonderful _ day.” 

And you walk out, head held high and only brief second thoughts running through your mind.

_ Sorry Marselle, I may have just ruined it for you.  _ You think.

* * *

Once you’re in the elevator you immediately punch the button for your floor before you hit the wall to get out the last remains of your anger. The pain in your hand grounds you and the reality of the situation starts to set in. You slump heavily against the wall as it all begins to fade, letting out a harsh sigh and running your hands down your face. With a loud groan you let your arms drop and your head thumps against the wall. All of your anger has evaporated, leaving your heart racing and your body and mind exhausted. 

Oh my god, you cannot believe you just did that. _ I’m so fucked.  _

You never, and you mean  _ never _ , act like that. You rarely get angry to begin with, and when you do you sure as hell don’t let it completely consume you and control you like that. You cannot remember ever being that angry. You literally just threw all thought and consequences away without any care. You had been so focused this entire time on your plan, and you could have just ruined it all. 

A small part of your mind is telling you that this could work in your favor. It is literally the only thing that had come to mind that could solve your issue of setting yourself as far apart as you wanted and needed to be. But you can’t believe it happened. 

Now you’re just filled with a sense of panic, upset that you lost control over something seemingly so small and potentially ruining everything. All cause for some reason, this one fucking time when it could be the most important, you lost control. Just because of one simple thought about someone treating your boyfriend badly. What the fuck were you thinking!? Of course they had treated him badly. In fact, you know they treated him a whole hell of a lot worse than that. He was in the  _ Games _ . He, in fact, won his Game. Of fucking course that was what happened. 

You feel frustration and self hatred build in you, feeling like the world is crashing down around you. You barely even realize that you’ve started crying and attempt to smother the single sob that slips out of you with your hand. 

“ _ Y/N. _ ” You look up, startled, to see that the elevator has arrived at your floor and the doors have opened to reveal Sven, your Mentors, and your Stylist Team. They all look completely shocked and confused, like they don’t know what happened or what to do. 

“What happened?” Namjoon prompts gently, stepping forward with his hands up in a form of surrender. “Come out of there. Let’s talk about it.”

They’re all looking at you like you’re some cornered animal they don’t want to set off, but maybe that isn’t too wrong. 

Not wanting to do this, you rush out of the elevator and shove your way past them all. You quickly run to your room and lock the door, deciding to sob into your pillow and ignore them all in favor of breaking down. 

For a second, you fear that they might send someone to take you away and be punished for what you had done. But the thought is quickly dashed out of your mind. They still need you right now, you’ve got the crowd's favor. You have an interesting story going and everyone wants to know what will happen to you next. They can’t throw that away so quickly. 

Sure, in Game they might take out their revenge through your vicious murder via torture or mutts, but they’ll need to keep you alive for a while at least. 

Instead, your mind spirals down the path of them purposefully giving you a low score for your actions. While at the time, it seemed like it would do the opposite, you could very much have extremely offended them. They could easily set you up to fail here, not only in Game but with public opinion. You really could have just ruined absolutely everything here. It doesn’t matter if people had won before on low scores like a 3 before, if people don’t think you’ll win they won’t be interested and that means they sure as hell won’t pay for any sponsor gifts should you need them in Game. That could  _ literally _ kill you. 

Eventually you stop crying and just lay in bed, staring unfocused at the wall. After the small break to lose your composure, your mind is already attempting to correct the mistake. You can turn this around, can’t you? You have to, somehow. You need to get back home to Jimin.

With the thought of him in your head, you shakily reach out to your locket. Bringing it to rest in front of your face, you pop it open and look at the picture inside for the first time this whole experience. Your tears have long since dried, but seeing his face forces you to remember exactly why you’re doing this and what you have to fight for. As determination fills you, you hear Sven knock on the door to tell you dinner will be ready soon. 

With that, you get up and take a quick shower. It helps you clean yourself up and look presentable again, as well as make you feel more confident and comfortable as you change your outfit. You throw the cursed training clothes away and out of sight, not wanting to be reminded of your mistake from this point forward. It’s a bit unimaginable of a thought, as you’d have to deal with the consequences for the rest of the Game, but it’s the intentions that count you guess. 

* * *

Dinner is fairly quiet, no one seems to want to talk about what happened earlier. You wish they would just ignore it and talk like normal, yet you don’t have it in you to start a conversation. Luckily, you don’t have to, and Marselle clears his throat across from you. 

“So,” he starts awkwardly, “what all did you do to make the Gamemakers react like that?”

You can see the others around you reacting rather apparently as your face drops and you briefly close your eyes with a heavy sigh. They all looked relieved for someone breaking the silence before they try to get him to stop talking. He either doesn’t care or doesn’t notice, because he finishes his question anyways and those around him make noises of frustration or eye you warily. 

“What?” He asks, looking around the table confused. “You didn’t see them. They looked startled, pissed off, or intrigued. It was really strange. They actually paid attention during my test, which I didn’t expect them to. And they cleaned the room so I didn’t see anything. I’m just curious.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right.” You mumble darkly to yourself. 

“So what did you do?” He asks again. 

“Something really stupid.” You say automatically, pinching the bridge of your nose in your exhaustion. It somehow helps you keep the rising stress headache at bay. 

“You? Doing something stupid?” He asks in disbelief. 

“Glad you have so much faith in me.” You mutter, cause you definitely don’t. You obviously can’t keep a level head when it really matters. 

He holds his hands up in surrender. “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just everything you do seems very thought out. The idea of you doing something dumb and impulsive doesn’t really sound like something that would happen.”

“Great. That makes me feel so much better.” You say sarcastically. 

“Okay, I’m dropping it.” He says with a shake of his head as the others around him glare to shut him up. “Consider it dropped.” 

“Thank you.” You say quietly. 

The rest of dinner is silent again, and you hate it. 

* * *

You sit together a little later to watch the scores be announced. Most scores are pretty low in the 4 to 6 range, a 7 is pretty rare for a normal Tribute. The Careers are naturally the highest in the 8 to 10 range. You watch as Marselle’s picture flashes across the screen, fear starting to build in you steadily. 

After a few seconds pause, the number 6 appears under his photo. Those around you breathe a sigh of relief and congratulate him on a job well done. You don’t really know what he did to get such a high score, but you’re happy he’s doing well. 

As your name is called and your picture switches on screen you’re too ashamed to even look, curling in on yourself and looking down towards the floor. You hug yourself tightly as silence fills the room before the number is revealed. You can’t take this, you’ve ruined everything. 

Suddenly the world around you erupts into loud sounds and cheering. Shocked, your head snaps up to see the number on the screen, and your breath is stolen…

Eleven. 

Your mouth drops as everyone around you starts showering you in congratulations. You continue to stare at the score until it disappears, completely flabbergasted. Even the announcers seem shocked, but you don’t get much time to focus on what exactly it is that they’re saying. You can always watch a rerun later if you need to. 

Marselle is in a similar state across from you. No one gets elevens. Much less someone from your District. What the fuck happened!?

“I-I-” You stutter out. “How-? This must be a mistake!”

“Apparently not.” Namjoon says, appearing to be in deep thought. 

“God damn, Y/N. What the fuck did you do in there?” Yoongi grumbles, subtly impressed yet also exasperated. 

“Attacked the Gamemakers.” You blurt out before you can stop yourself. 

Everyone stares at you in shock. 

“You what…?” Sven asks hesitantly, maybe expecting you to tell him something different this time around. As if they all heard you wrong. 

“I attacked them.” You state again, slowly. “Kind of.”

“Kind of!?” Yoongi says with a crazed laugh. “How the hell do you “kind of” attack someone!?”

Immediately you feel unneededly defensive. “They weren’t paying attention to me, and I needed a good score. I had the thought of them doing that to Jimin and it pissed me off.”

“So you attacked them?” Namjoon asks in utter disbelief. 

“Yes.” You explain. “I threw knives at them. I didn’t really hurt them. I just pinned some food to the wall….. And some of their clothes and hair…… and I may have also nicked a few of them on the ear and cheek.”

“Didn’t really hurt them….” Sven mutters breathlessly, slowly sitting down in the chair behind him. 

“Jesus fucking Christ! Didn’t really hurt them!? No, you terrified them!” Marselle shouts, pointing at you, “You’re actually crazy! ”

“What were their faces like?” Isley asks calmly, but curiously. 

Suddenly there’s a pause before you all burst into laughter. 

“Oh my god, I was so worried.” You say in between breaths. “I thought for sure they would score me low and kill me off as soon as I stepped into the Arena.”

“I guess not.” Yoongi says as you all start to calm down. “Apparently attacking the Gamemakers shows off just how dangerous you can be.” 

“I’m actually not that surprised.” Namjoon says. “Vivienne Cassiopeia may be a brutal Head Gamemaker, but one thing she definitely knows how to do is give credit where it’s due. She knows how to put on a good show, that’s for sure. And this definitely did both of those things.”

“I guess it is what you wanted.” Sven muses with a nod. 

“Damn, the Careers are definitely going to hate me even more now.” You tell them. “I didn’t even look at the weaponry the whole training period, yet suddenly I outshow them?”

“You’re screwed.” Marselle agrees. “They’re literally going to hunt you down now.”

“Great. Just what I need.” You groan out. 

“Hey, it’s what you wanted.” He quotes back at you, as if you need a reminder. You throw a pillow at him to make yourself feel better. But you can’t help leaning back in a laugh of relief with a smile on your face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We getting emotional up in here. It's about that time where it's really setting in that we're going into literal hell, so naturally anyone would be a mess no matter how well they can hide it. 
> 
> Tell me your thoughts, see you next week!


	12. The Interviews

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The interviews are finally here. You're feeling surprisingly prepared considering this is likely the most influential event you'll be participating it. However, the feelings it bring up after are not necessarily wanted ones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Want a more immersive reading experience? Use the google chrome extension InteractiveFics to replace things like Y/N with words and names of your choice: [https://chrome.google.com/webstore/detail/interactivefics/pcpjpdomcbnlkbghmchnjgeejpdlonli/related?hl=en](url)

**_Y/N’s POV_ **

Interview day is as you expected, chaos. 

You don’t spend long at breakfast, there’s simply too much to do. You also do not spend any time strategizing like you normally do. However, you’re told that you will be coached separately today. To you, it’s a sign that you are finally being treated completely separately. You are different Tributes, and from here on out you will be trained and spoken to alone. No more sharing your ideas over the table, you can’t afford that anymore. Your pre-gaming is almost over, and you can practically feel it in the air. Everything seems heavier now, and there’s this thick tension with the air filled with so much electric nervous energy. 

You spend the first part of the morning working with Isley and Sven on how to present yourself. How to walk and sit properly, how to hold yourself, and in general they just make sure you know how to act like a proper lady. You find it a bit amusing, there’s simply so much thought and effort to go into it when on the outside it's supposed to look effortless. By the end of it they both assure you that you are a natural and that you’ll do just fine. 

Next, you spend time with Namjoon and Yoongi going over your interview strategy and practicing questions. It was interesting to say the least. They prepare you pretty well for any and all questions you might receive, from basic knowledge to personal questions to ones that were so blunt and invasive that it was just downright rude. But they want you to be able to react well to anything you might hear, despite knowing that Caesar has far more charisma and tact than that. This section takes by far the shortest amount of time. 

And finally, most of your day is spent being prepared by your stylist team. Following the theme, you’re covered in literal nature once again. This time, however, it’s different from the first. Where before you were naked, and everything seemed skin tight because of it, this time it's more in the form of a dress, a ballgown really. During the chariot ride you were covered in almost everything in the wild you could imagine, but now you’re surrounded by flowers and grass. It’s a very different look, from a forest born Mother Earth to one straight out of a meadow. 

Your hair is extravagantly curled and full of volume you didn’t think was possible, but it goes well with the puffiness of the gown. Maybe they put in fake hair or even put a wig on you without you noticing too much. For the most part you just zone out and let them do their work, listening to them talk and only chiming in whenever the conversation calls for it. So it’s not too crazy of an assumption. It’s just as elegant as the first costume, stunning in another way. It’s less of a divine look and more of a pulchritudinous one. 

Your makeup is far more intense, with a strong smokey eye, a natural colored lip, and some beautiful contouring. Your face and body once again look flawless in a way that you’ve never seen, yet they somehow don’t change it at all. They don’t cover up any of your natural beauty marks or scars, in fact they accentuate them. They don’t change your skin, hair, or eye color. They don’t edit your natural shape at all. It’s like they look at you, see perfection and beauty, and present the best version of it to the outside world the way they imagine it. It’ll probably never cease to shock you. 

“Are you ready, dear?” Isley asks you.

You sigh, “As I’ll ever be. I’ve been assured several times over today that I’ll do just fine.” 

“Well you’re a natural, Y/N.” Flynn states proudly, and the other members enthusiastically agree. 

It’s strange, they all have so much faith in you, in this act you’re putting up. Is your performance really so flawless? Or do they actually believe in _you_ , and what you’re capable of. Not that silly little show girl with a blinding smile and fabulous crowd pleasing skills. They look proud. In fact, everyone that’s helped you this whole time has looked proud. You can’t fathom why, you don’t think you’ve ever done anything worthy of that emotion in your whole life. But still, you take it all to heart. You want to do well for them all. You want to represent them well, prove what they think of you. Prove that you’re worth it, for once, even if you don’t necessarily agree. You’re actually quite desperate for it, but that’s probably an issue in and of itself. 

You spend your time talking with the team before you go. It’s nice, they help you relax. It’s also like they’ve honestly been preparing you for the interview the whole time you’ve been with them, now that you think about it. You just didn’t really notice until now. They’ve been asking you questions non-stop since you met. They seem genuinely interested in you and learning everything they can. You can’t help but return the same enthusiasm. If you just go into it thinking that everyone out there is watching you like that, then it’ll be simple. You haven’t balked under the cameras and crowd’s attention yet, so this is no different as well. It makes you realize that this is probably going to be a lot easier than you thought. 

Before you know it, you’re completely serene and being herded off to the side of the stage to line up. As you wait to go on, you observe your fellow Tributes and watch their interviews intently. This is probably honestly one of the best representations of their character you’re going to get. This is the most involved, personal, and intense activity you’ll be doing so far. What you see when someone is _this nervous_ can tell you a lot about them. Do they panic? Do they shut down? Maybe they don’t crack under the pressure or they thrive under it. And after this, how do they hold themselves? When they’re actually on stage, how do they present themselves to basically the whole world?

You see some of everything both back here and on the screen. Some things you expected, and some things surprise you. You don’t see a point in focusing on what you’ll do. You’re already calm and comfortable, why risk thinking about it to change it. Whatever happens up there happens, you just have to perform to the best of your ability and hope for the best. 

Caesar Flickerman never stops amazing you and never underperforms. You don’t know how he does it so well, especially with what he is actually the announcer for, but however he does it you wish he could clue the rest of you in. He somehow meshes with every personality presented to him so well, and can make an interesting show out of anything. Even the Tributes that are so afraid that they barely speak. He makes a valiant effort to sell every Tribute to the audience and make them fall in love. You appreciate and admire that kind of work, dedication, and talent. 

You’re actually very excited to meet him, despite the circumstances as to why it's happening. You’re confident he’ll understand the pace you want the interview to go and how you want it to operate without much prompting. In fact, he’ll probably take it to a whole nother level than just what you have planned. You’re also looking forward to how intimate this interaction will be with the audience. You’ll be able to interact with them almost one on one and see their reactions in real time. It could help you or hurt you, but it’s definitely one of the most important things about this whole event. Of course, you can never plan out a whole interview or the crowd’s reaction and participation. But you can have a rough idea and just hope it goes well. That’s been your motto for most of the Games so far, and it’ll probably continue to be. 

As expected, the Careers all do well. They’re confident, and great at selling themselves as charismatic and skilled. Some like to hint at just how deadly they can and will be, while others say it upfront, and some even don’t say it at all, wanting to leave it a surprise in a way. They all look stunning, most Tributes you see have, but it’s made more obvious by just how strong their personalities are. It just seems to fit. The audience seems to like them, though that's not out of the ordinary. You just pray you can do just as well if not out show them. Though that might spell even more trouble for you in Game. You’ve already got quite a lot of build up with that one though, so why not add on. It’s going to happen either way. 

You wish you could see Marselle and the little girl from District 12’s interview before you go up, but unfortunately that’s not possible. You’ll just have to watch it after. You plan on going over all the footage again in more detail later anyway. Not only will they force you to watch the recap, but you also need to get the full show to take some in depth notes. You need to over analyze everything and try and figure out as many possibilities as you can. 

It feels like you only blink and then your name is being called and you’re walking onto the stage with confidence and a charming smile. You shake Caesar’s hand enthusiastically, but firmly, and quickly sit down. This interview has to be very fast pace in order for you to get everything you want out, but you don’t think he’ll have any problems with that. They are only 3 minutes long, they kind of have to be quick. 

“How are you enjoying the Capital, my dear?” He asks you right away. 

“Oh it’s absolutely wonderful, Caesar!” You gush in excitement. “Everyone here is so helpful. The food and the amenities are absolutely to die for! And I’m completely in love with all of your people’s looks and styles. It’s all so beautiful and unique. You look amazing this year, by the way.” 

You hear and see several people react excitedly, some even coo at your statement. 

“Well, aren't you the sweetest thing! I’m sure I say this for all of us, thank you darling. I assure you we all try very hard.” He says with a smile and a wink to the crowd, continuing the quick pace you’ve established. The crowd makes noises of agreement. “Speaking of style, what’s it like having this theme? You’ve looked absolutely breathtaking so far.” 

“Well thank you.” You say blushing and looking bashful. “I don’t really think there’s all that much there for me to show, but I’ve been told quite the opposite. My costume theme shocked me when Isley told me about it, I mean it’s quite the thing to live up to. It’s all thanks to my amazing stylist team that I could pull it off.”

“Nonsense, we all think you’re beautiful!” He says in disbelief before addressing the crowd, “Don’t we everyone!?”

You blush harder as the crowd cheers back loudly in conformation. You smile at them in thanks.

"What about that lovely little necklace we've seen on you? It seems like you haven't taken it off."

Now you're flustered, and even though you know you shouldn't you feel anxiety at having to talk about it. "It's my token, and I actually haven’t removed it this whole time. It was a gift someone gave me right before the Reaping."

Seeing as you weren't ready to go into it more, he switches topics. 

“I’m sure we’re all curious about this one. How did you get such a high training score, love?”

“Oh.” You say, honestly a little startled. Of course they would ask you about that. What are you supposed to say? You obviously can’t tell them the truth. 

You laugh a little sheepishly, “I’m not really supposed to say anything, but I can definitely tell you I got a little carried away in there.”

“Well there can’t possibly be a thing as too much excitement.” He reassures you.

“No, no.” You wave your hands gently in front of you, still pretending as if the whole thing actually amused you rather than terrified you. “Trust me, I should really be apologizing to all those Gamemakers that had to put up with me. I’m so sorry.”

They all laugh loudly at that, you’re happy they think it’s just a joke. You hope your apology does help smooth things over a bit, but you honestly doubt it at this point. You’re so far past assuming that everyone is aiming to get you killed during this thing that you’re just preparing for the worst. 

"I actually thought they would give me a low score." You admit. 

You hear several noises of shock. 

"Oh I doubt that, darling." Caesar says. "But even so, you got an 11. That's quite the score!" 

You take a second to let your eyes flick around the room and survey the crowd. How are you doing? It still feels like you have so much to get through. Will you run out of time?

Your attention is brought back when Caesar lays his hand on yours. 

“Now that we’ve got that out of the way, let's get to the serious stuff.” 

“Of course.” You say with a nervous smile. You really are feeling all sorts of emotions during this speed interview, far more of it is more genuine than you expected it to be. You thought you were going to be faking everything out here, but maybe Caesar and the crowd just have that effect on you. You’ve been filled with a weird energy everytime you’re under the audience’s eye, but this was a whole nother level. It made you feel electric. 

“It was very brave of you to volunteer for that little girl.” He says, a lot gentler than before. “She wasn’t even related to you, I believe. Why did you do it?”

“Well…” You pause briefly. “I’m sure you heard her last name. Park. You see, her older brother was Reaped a few years ago. He’s a Victor now, I’m sure you remember him, Jimin Park.” 

“Absolutely.” He says, and the crowd makes sounds and moves of affirmation. “A brilliant boy, that one.” 

You smile sweetly at the praise. “He is. If I’m honest with you, I didn’t want their family to go through that again. I don’t think they _could_ go through it again.” 

“So you decided to go instead.” He filled in. 

You nod. “I have a lot better chance at making it out than Jiah did.”

“Very admirable of you.” He tells you, and it seems genuine. You just give a slight shrug, as if it seemed like the obvious thing to do to you, which it did. 

“What about your family?” He asks. “What did they think? I bet they were proud of you.”

“Oh, I don’t have any family.” You blurt out. Fuck, okay, you guess now you have to go with it. You can’t just say things like that and not expect interest. “They all died when I was 5.”

“I’m sorry.” He says sincerely. “So young, where did you go?” 

“I didn’t really go anywhere.” You tell him honestly. “I lived on the streets for most of my childhood.”

“That must have been hard.” He says. You hear many people gasp in horror, some might even be crying. 

You nod, a bit hesitant when it comes to figuring out just how much information you want to share. “But I didn’t stay there. My mentor, you probably know him as well, Jillian Wess. He’s the oldest Victor from our District, and he’s our only healer. He saw my bright mind and took me in to be his apprentice. He’s taught me everything he knows. I actually think he’s part of my new family.” 

“That’s wonderful.” He smiles at you sweetly. 

“Now, do you have anyone special? A boy back home who’s stolen your heart?”

You blush deeply. 

“Ah, I think that’s a yes! Please dear, tell us all about it!”

“I-” You stutter out. Quickly, you clear your throat. “There is someone. Um, I talked about him earlier.”

Suddenly there’s a pause as the sentence sinks in. 

“Jimin Park?” He asks in shock.

“Yes.” You say confidently, your hand going up to mess with your locket. “We were together before his Games even. It was… really hard after he came home. I was prepared for him to not want to be with me anymore, I mean, it wouldn’t be that hard to believe with what he went through. But we’re both pretty stubborn. He tried to push me away because he didn’t want to hurt me, and I didn’t leave his side. It was definitely difficult, but we’re obviously still together and our relationship is a lot stronger than it was before.”

You pause for a second to catch your breath, everyone in the room seems to be hanging on to your every word. It fills you with a new wave of confidence. Despite what seemed like a rushed dump of information to you, it was obviously engaging and authentic enough that they believed what you were showing and telling them.

“He and his family took me in, as well as the rest of the Victor’s around his age. They’re like my new family. When I saw his little sister’s name get pulled, the look on his face was just….. _Unbearable_. So was his mother's. I wasn’t lying when I said I didn’t think they could go through that again. Jiah is their whole world.” 

“It seems like you are as well.” He says softly. Now you know people are crying. “He did look even more upset once you had volunteered.”

“I’d like to think so sometimes.” You say with a sad smile. “But like I said, it’s better me than her. It seems like ever since I was born all the world’s done is try to break me down. Yet I’ve still survived until now. So I’ll just have to survive again. It’s what I’m built for. Besides, I promised them I’d try my hardest to come back. I promised _him_ I’d come back to him, like he did me. I intend to keep that promise.”

“I believe you can do it.” He tells you with a warm smile. “We all do, don’t we?”

As he asks the crowd they respond the most you’ve seen all night. 

"One last question, my dear." He tells you. "That necklace, was it a gift from Jimin?"

You nod. "Yes, it is. He got us matching lockets with pictures of each other in them."

You think some people swoon at that. 

"Can we see it?" He asks. 

But instead, the buzzer goes off signaling the end of the interview. You don’t want to admit how relieved you are to not have to come up with an excuse so you don't have to show something you find so private. He gives you a goodbye and a last well wish, presenting you to the crowd once more.

You even get a standing ovation through all of the sobbing and tears. 

Then you're whisked away. 

* * *

Later that evening you sit quietly up on the roof, thinking everything over. After watching the last interviews and then being ushered into a car to go back to the training center for dinner, you didn’t really want to watch the recap of today’s events. This was the one thing that for some reason you didn’t feel comfortable watching. So you simply ate quietly while the others buzzed around you, grabbing some snacks before coming up here. 

Despite it probably being a bad idea, with how surprisingly emotional you were feeling after the interview, you decided to write out your letters to everyone now. After all, you probably won’t get the chance to do so after you go to bed tonight. Tomorrow’s the day. You’ll be up most likely before dawn, and transported to the Arena, where you may be spending the rest of your life. 

No one is there to hear you cry out into the wind. You hope some of them won’t mind a few tear marks on their page either, because there really isn’t a way to cover it up at this point. 

Afterwards, you just sit and stare at the sunset. 

You know you said that you would put aside this time to shut everything off and not think about the Games, but you just can’t do that right now. 

Upon further inspection, you realize it’s because you feel guilty. Part of it is because your entire facade this whole time has been an act. Sure, a lot of it’s got really emotion behind it, but it’s almost all blown out of proportions or just straight up fake. You know it’s part of your plan, and you’re just playing a bigger better version of yourself. But you just feel like you’re lying and being far too analytical. You’re playing with people’s emotions and doing all this because it’s part of the plan and will help you survive. That’s it. It makes you feel kind of dirty, though it probably shouldn’t. But people do a lot of terrible things just to survive another day. You knew it well when you were younger, but you guess living so comfortably lately has made you forget. You have a feeling you’re really going to get well acquainted with it again in Game. 

But that isn’t all of it, in fact, it’s not even most of it. That’s just a small portion of your guilt, overshadowed by the large part of you that feels like you’re using your loved ones. 

You literally just did a whole interview telling your entire “sob story”. You told the world all those personal things about yourself and others without even asking for their permission. Hell, while most of them may know it, some of that stuff you haven’t even told most people you know. Once again you’re just using all this to your advantage in hopes it’ll help you survive. Because you’re selfish and apparently you don’t mind making a show out of other people’s lives and suffering. 

A heavy sigh behind you startles you out of your dark spiralling thought process. Your head snaps around, wide eyed, to see Yoongi leaning against the doors to the roof a few feet back. You can’t believe you had let someone sneak up on you like that. If you had been in the Arena you’d be dead right now. 

“Why don’t you stop brooding and come downstairs?” He suggests tiredly, “We need to talk about your strategy and catch you up since you decided to play hooky on tonight's recap.” 

While it sounds like an offer, you know by the tone of his voice that it’s very much not. He’s telling you to come down now and talk, whether you like it or not. It’s what Jimin, Taehyung, and Jeongguk often called the "hyung voice". They didn't really use it often, but when they did it's normally something you should stop and listen to. It's at a moment like this that you remember that you’re both the youngest of the group and they're your Mentors. Namjoon and Yoongi are responsible for your life right now. You know that at times, you've relied heavily on all of them, but this is different. This is literally survival or death, and you don't know why it's taken you this long to really realize it. 

It takes you a second to process what was actually said, but when you do you feel your heart drop. You’ve probably done something very wrong and they want to “talk” to you about it. Maybe they’ve finally seen how horrible of a person you’ve been and now they’re going to yell at you for it. Shout all of your worst fears and thoughts right back in your face and prove that it’s all true. 

“Come on.” He says urgently, suddenly right beside you and nudging you gently with his foot.

“Up, up!” He demands, waving his hand in a general upward motion to get you moving. 

“I’m going!” You tell him jokingly, though it seems to be a little weak. 

“Not fast enough.” He snarks right back. 

When you finally get moving, he takes you to the nearest conference room, where your whole team is waiting. If you were nervous and afraid before, this multiplies it all by a million. The conference rooms are the only soundproof areas in the whole center, besides the training gym. While none of you have any doubt there are cameras literally everywhere, it’s the only place to get some sort of privacy. With that being said, you have yet to use them. You've always talked about strategy either straight in the open with everyone, or just in a normal seperate room once you split apart. And with your whole team being there, looking serious, you really know you’re in trouble now. 

As Yoongi closes the door behind you and moves to stand against the wall beside Namjoon, you just decide to give up. With a heavy sigh you sit down in the last empty seat and try your best to prepare yourself, despite knowing you can never be ready for what’s about to happen. 

“Before we discuss anything,” Namjoon starts calmly, finally breaking the silence. “I just want to say that you skipping out on the recap today was ridiculously stupid.”

You just stare back at him blankly, he isn’t wrong. It was dumb of you. 

“You know everyone is required to watch the entirety of the Games.” He reminds you firmly, and you realize this is the first time he’s been disappointed with you this whole process. Maybe a lot of things you’ve done have disappointed him and Yoongi, hell probably even your whole team. But this is the first time any of them have shown that to you. 

“ _Especially_ you since you’re a _participant_.” He stresses, brows furrowing as he lets his frustration show. “Now, to hopefully make sure you don’t get punished for it, you and the rest of us have to stay up late to rewatch it all. That way we can make sure you’ve met your part of the deal and then we can talk strategy one last time. Not only does that set us back because we had other things we needed to be doing, but it also makes it so that you get far less sleep than you need to function at your best tomorrow when they wake you up around dawn and send you into the Game. You are putting every single one of us at a disadvantage here when it comes to getting you out alive.”

In the back of your mind you can only hear yourself thinking about how they’re going to punish you for it anyways. Most everything you’ve done so far is bound to have pissed someone off, whether that be those running the Games or the other participants in it. Which means that either way they’re out to make your life a living hell. In some twisted way, if you go in thinking everyone and everything is against you you’ll either be pleasantly surprised or more likely, you’ll get what you were prepared for. 

He takes a deep breath and wipes his face clean, the air in the room heavy, “Now I’ll only ask you this one time, why did you decide to skip the recap?”

You sigh, running a hand through your hair and finally breaking eye contact to look anywhere but at the team. “I just….. didn’t feel like it.” 

You wince minutely at just how bad that sounds. Shit.

“You. didn’t. feel. like. it?” Yoongi practically growls indignation. 

“I-I just-” You huff in annoyance, “I didn’t think I could, okay?”

“Why not?” Namjoon prompts, remaining far calmer than Yoongi. But that just seems to bother you more. Why do they care anyway? You’re basically throwing your life away tomorrow. 

“I couldn't.” You snap. “What else do you want me to say, huh!?”

“Why are you upset?” Always the mediator, that one. Though you distantly think he’s right. Why are you acting like this? You never do. 

“I’m not.” Is your automatic response, despite knowing it’s not true. 

“That’s bullshit, Y/N, and you know it.” Yoongi snaps, coming up to the table to stand by Namjoon. “You may be able to play that crowd like putty in your hands, but that shit won’t work here. Joon and I know you, we know something is bothering you. Hell, we might even know what it is, but we can’t do anything to fix it if you don't tell us.”

“You can’t fix it though.” You tell them angrily. 

“How are any of us supposed to know that if we don’t try?” Namjoon asks. 

It’s at this point that you realize they’re egging you on. But by now you’re far too consumed by anger to really do anything about it. Normally you’re not like this. In fact, you react like this on rare occasions. You tend to go through life looking at the positive rather than the negative. You’d much rather be nice to others than mean to them. Yelling and being angry like this is something you almost never do, because it reminds you too much of your time before the streets with your blood family. And those were not happy memories. You don’t want to be like them. 

You know that they’re just trying to get what’s bothering you out there so they can help because they care, but somehow it feels like they’re doing it for the exact opposite reasons right now. 

“Why are you helping me anyway!” Your voice is rising at this point. 

“Why are we-!? What the fuck do you mean by that!?” Yoongi asks.

“Y/N, where is this coming from?” Namjoon asks worriedly. 

“It doesn’t matter!” You shout at them, standing up. “None of this matters! Why are you helping me?” 

Yoongi seems to have had enough, as he slams his hand down on the table and yells back at you. “Damn it, Y/N! Is it so hard for you to believe that we want you to get out of this alive!?”

“I-what?” You ask, startled. 

“Do you really think we would be doing all this, trying this hard, if we didn’t want you to make it back home?

“You- You want all of your Tributes to make it back.” You state. 

“Y/N, you’re different.” Namjoon tells you empathetically. You realize how honest the looks on their faces are. They’re struggling right now, because of you. 

Yoongi sighs and slouches back against the wall. 

“You’re our friend….” He mumbles quietly. Closing his eyes, he lets his head thump back against the wall as pain crosses his face. “We _know_ you. You’ve helped all of us. Jimin can’t live without you…… We couldn’t function without you there.” 

“We want you to come back _home_ with _us_.” Namjoon says desperately, honestly looking so exhausted. 

“Why aren’t you mad at me?” You whisper weakly. 

“Mad?” He asks confused. “Why would we be mad at you? You’ve done a phenomenal job so far.”

“But I’m using all of you.” You insist. “I’m playing everyone around me to get the outcome I want and I’m using other people’s stories to my advantage.” 

“No, you’re not.” Yoongi says, eyes narrowing in disbelief. “You aren’t like that Y/N. You don’t mean to hurt anyone.”

“But what if I have.” You whimper, feeling tears well up in your eyes. 

“You haven’t.” Namjoon promises. 

When you look down at the ground, not believing it, he continues. 

“We don’t care what you have to do or say to get out of this. All of us will back you up no matter what happens. We just want you to survive.”

The others don’t hesitate to agree rather adamantly. 

When you look around the room, you just see honesty on their faces. You might not believe it yet, because you haven’t heard everyone you’ve affected tell you that. And even then, you don’t know if you’d take it seriously. There’s no other way for you to ever be completely sure. Especially when you think about the fact that most of the people here just met you, why would they be so invested already? 

...But maybe you’re starting to entertain the idea that it might be real.

And you feel grateful to have such a wonderful team around you. One that’s working so hard to represent you well and help you make it home. 

“Thank you.” You tell them. 

“Are we good?” Yoongi asks, probably wanting all this sappy and emotional stuff to end.

“We’re good.” You tell him with a smile, wiping the remaining wetness from your eyes. 

“Good.” He says with a sigh of relief. “Cause we have work to do.” 

* * *

You spend the rest of the night talking with your team for the last time and writing a lot more notes. It’ll be the last chance you get to do all of it. So you take the time to cover everything, asking all the questions you could possibly think of about what might happen in there. You end up feeling as prepared as you can possibly be, and it’s a strangely comforting thought.

When you all eventually decide it’s time to say goodnight, that’s when the tearful goodbyes start. The first people to rush you are your prep team, all crying in some form and talking over each other. 

“Hey, hey,” You try to comfort them. “It’s alright, I’ll be okay.”

Eventually you get them to stop sobbing enough for them to look at you and listen, “Thank you so much for everything you’ve done. You’ve been great friends, and I’ve loved spending time with you. All of you are so talented and I’m grateful I got to have the opportunity of you dressing me for these events. The way you’ve looked at me and made your ideas come to life is truly a unique work of art that I hope you all continue to show to the world.”

That may make them sob more, but you don’t mind as they smother you in a group hug. You hadn’t thought it would happen, but you’ve become rather attached to them. You could easily call them friends at this point. 

“Thank you for taking the time to learn about the real me.” You tell them softly, before you eventually let go and they shuffle away. 

Next up is Yoongi. He sighs deeply as he approaches, reaching up to rustle your hair. “You’ll do great in there, kiddo.”

You gently push his hand away with a soft smile. 

“You better watch.” You tell him. 

He scoffs and rolls his eyes at you, though you can see the sadness in his eyes. 

“Come here.” You tell him, opening your arms to him. 

He hesitates for a second, but eventually his shoulders drop in defeat and he accepts your hug. If he holds you a little tighter than normal, no one is there to see it. 

“Go give them hell.” He whispers in your ear. 

“You know it.” You assure him as you pull away. 

As he leaves he sends a wave back over his shoulder, “See you on the other side, Y/N.”

When Namjoon approaches, he decides to lay a hand on your shoulder instead. With a comforting squeeze he tells you, “It’ll be fine. I trust in your skills, and you should too. We’ll help you build your story from the outside, and get you anything you need in Game if we can.” 

“I trust you.” You admit freely, maybe in an attempt to reassure him. You do trust him, you’d trust him with your life. Which is a good thing, because that’s exactly what’s happening here. If there was anyone that had the capability of getting you out, it was them. 

Now, if you trusted your own abilities was another matter. Of course you put some faith behind them, they’d save you many times from the jaws of death. But you’re always a bit hesitant to think they’d help you do that just one more time. With that being said, it eased your mind quite a lot to know that those around you put so much weight behind your abilities. 

“And we believe in you.” He tells you, as if he knew exactly what you were thinking at that moment. 

You smile shakily at him, not able to voice your thoughts. So instead he pulls you into a hug. You stay there for a moment, enjoying it for maybe the last time. He, just like Yoongi and Jeongguk, was someone that didn’t initiate physical contact much. The exception was if he knew you well enough, but even then he was far more reserved compared to someone like Jimin.

When you seperate, you carefully grab the notebook you had set off to the side and hand it out towards him. 

“Take it. Read through it all, I don’t mind. I wrote something in there for all of you. Please make sure they all get it.” You tell him. 

He smiled at you, but pushed the notebook back towards you. 

“Give it to Isley instead.” He says. “I’ll get it later.”

Though confused, you nod and pull the item to your chest, wrapping your arms around it protectively. 

“Off to bed now.” Isley says urgently, coming up to the two of you and waving Namjoon away. “Busy day tomorrow. For all of us.”

He gives you one last cute dimpled smile before you’re ushered off to bed. Before you close the door, you gently hand your notebook to Isley, who promises you she’ll take good care of it. 

* * *

When you finally lie down in bed you’re tired enough that you know you're surprisingly going to get sleep tonight. You're honestly exhausted from all the emotional rollercoasters, the extensive crying, and being haunted by the ghosts of your past all brought up from today's events. You're so done that your mind and body have completely shut off, making sleep come easy. It's probably better this way, as otherwise you might actually be staying up all night with your head full of useless anxieties and scenarios about the "what if"s the Arena and the Games might provide. There's no point in worrying. What happens happens, you're as prepared as you can be, and this is even something you really can't ever be prepared for. 

Not only are you going to sleep, but somehow as you hug a pillow to your chest, you end up drifting off with a smile on your face mere hours before you enter the Games. You didn't even know that was possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What even are emotions? This is what happens when you're left alone to spiral people. It got better though, so we all good. 
> 
> How ya feeling? Let me know and I'll see you next week. The main event is about to start people!


	13. Let The Games Begin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the main event, and you can only pray you make it out alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm soooooo sorry I haven't posted in so long. There are so many reasons I could give to try and explain it, but I'm not going to do that. Just know that I have never planned on abandoning this story and don't see myself ever doing so really. We have a lot left to get through, so let's get started!
> 
> Want a more immersive reading experience? Use the google chrome extension InteractiveFics to replace things like Y/N with words and names of your choice: [https://chrome.google.com/webstore/detail/interactivefics/pcpjpdomcbnlkbghmchnjgeejpdlonli/related?hl=en](url)

**_Y/N’s POV_ **

It's Isley that wakes you up in the morning, even before your alarm has been going off this entire trip just so you can be up before the sun. If you're saying it's too early to be up, then it is definitely too early, as you and Jillian are often the first risers in your District. But you suppose it's necessary, even if the Games don't start until early afternoon because if there's one thing the people of the Capitol most certainly are not, it's early risers. 

That'll leave you plenty of time for loading up all of the Tributes individually and who knows how long a time's worth of travel to the Arena for the year. Where you'll be prepped for the Games with your stylist. 

After getting dressed in a light travel outfit and grabbing a snack, you're taken to the roof you have become oh so familiar with to board the hovercraft that appears out of thin air. You suppose it's some sort of cloaking technology similar to reflective panels or something, too far past the point of being surprised or caring about just how overboard these people are. 

The morning cold grounds you as you watch the ladder descend from the craft and prepare yourself to climb up. You're once again thankful you aren't scared of heights, because such a feat would have been absolutely terrifying otherwise. You were already high enough above people on the rooftop and balconies before, you didn't need the extra excitement of climbing above that even, on a ladder that could very well lead to an untimely death. 

Of course, that brings your mind to the fact that people have probably tried to jump both from the roof and this ladder at some point in the Game's history. You know at least one of those things is stopped by a force field, but you wonder how they've dealt with the other. Not that you have debated or will be attempting either of them. Maybe you're just in the mood to think such thoughts, walking towards your inevitable death whether that be literally or figuratively in the form of the person you used to be. 

As you grip the honestly freezing ladder and take the time to steady yourself, you’re immediately turned into a statue. Panic fills you at being blindsided by such a thing, but no matter how hard you try you can’t move as you’re lifted up and into the hovercraft. 

_ Ah, so that’s how they do it _ , you muse. What a great experience for your last time in the outside world, frozen and fearful. 

You hope that they’ll let you move after you’ve entered the craft safely, but instead you’re forced to watch as a woman in white walks towards you with a syringe far too large for your liking. You don’t really mind needles, especially not when you have to deal with them so often for your job. However, having  _ that big _ of a needle pointed at  _ you _ is an entirely different situation. Anyone would be nervous about that. Besides, it’s a general rule that the wider the needle, the more it will hurt, and that’s one of the widest you’ve seen. You try to ignore the twinge of fear as your mind instead wonders what on earth it could possibly be for. 

She holds her hands up in a form of surrender and approaches you slowly, as if you could possibly attack her right now. You feel a slight twinge of annoyance at the ridiculousness of it all. 

“I’m just here to give you your tracker, Y/N.” She tells you soothingly. “The less you struggle the better it will go.”

_ You can’t move, why does it matter? _

As she brings the needle up to your arm she says, “This won’t hurt a bit, I promise.”

You would roll your eyes at that if you could, yeah right. You’re distracted by the pain in your forearm as she plunges the needle deeply into your arm with much force. 

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” She asks sweetly as she backs away and you’re finally free to move. 

You rub your arm gently and send a smouldering look at her back as she leaves the room. You could tell you were going to bruise from the deep ache under your fingers. You’re simultaneously happy that they put the tracker in deep enough that you can’t feel it under your skin at a touch, but also bothered that you have a foreign object given to you against your will that far in your body. 

Now they’ll know where you are and how you’re doing at all times. How caring of them. It’s not like they could possibly not know what’s happening with the people they literally surround with cameras and have multiple people watching at all times. 

As no one has told you what to do, you’re forced to wait as they bring Isley up from the roof after you. She gives you a small smile before an Avox girl enters the room and gestures for you to follow her. 

You’re taken to a room where breakfast is laid out for you. While you haven’t been hungry basically the entirety of your time since leaving your District due to constant eating, you settle down anyway. This is the last time you’ll get to eat literally as much as possible, and you pray to everything out there that this will all be worth it. You notice you’re doing a lot of hoping and praying lately, but what else can you do?

You watch the world pass by around you out the windows for as long as they allow you to before they completely black out. You assume that means you’re getting too close to the Arena for them to be comfortable showing your surroundings to you. Isley gently holds your hand in a form of comfort as you wait to arrive at your next stop. Whether it’s meant to relax you or her you’re unsure.

Overall, the ride is a lot shorter than you had hoped it would be. 

* * *

Once you feel the hovercraft land, you only wait a few minutes before the girl is back to take you to the ladder once again. As you’re lowered through a tube into the catacombs that live beneath the Arena, you start to feel it settle deep within you that you’re trapped here. You always hated small places, and the idea of being who knows how far underground in tiny near unavigatable tunnels makes you more uneasy than you’d like to admit.

You wait nervously for Isley to join you, feeling energy spike within you as you eye the walls around you with sharp eyes. Everything is new, freshly built. You feel disdain fill you at the thought that this place will only be used this once before it becomes a tourist hub for the citizens of the Capitol. Though the thought isn’t pleasant, it distracts you from the feeling that the walls are closing in on you. 

Once you’re together again you’re given directions to your own personal preparation chamber, where you’re promptly smothered by Isley in a hug. Though unexpected, you hug her back just as fiercely. Maybe she had been waiting to break her professional character until you were away from prying eyes. As you pull away she quickly grabs something out of her messenger bag, and your notebook is shoved gently into your hands. 

“I didn’t know you were allowed to bring things in here.” You tell her, flipping through it a little you see that she had disguised it as a sketchbook for her designs. It clicked in your head why Namjoon hadn’t accepted the notebook now. 

“I may have pulled a few strings.” She tells you with a wink, gently squeezing your shoulder. Now you have a way to write more notes before you go in. You’re very thankful she has given you this opportunity. 

“You sneaky minx.” You tell her with a smirk. She just makes an innocent face and shrugs. 

“Off you go,” She says with a shooing motion, “clean yourself up. Take your time, really enjoy it.”

“Oh I will.” You assure her. 

You’ll probably never admit to anyone that you cry in the shower, desperately clutching your locket in your hands. Your heart is aching, screaming in your chest. In the time that you probably need him the most, you’re forced to be away from each other. You question if this is how he felt too, and that breaks your heart more. It feels unbearable, and you haven’t even started your real trials yet. It’s another one of those times where you’re consumed by the thought of not being able to do this. 

Once out, you decide to put your hair as high up as you can to get it out of the way. You spend time talking about everything and nothing, as you wait for your clothing for the Arena to show up. You wish your stylists had some say in the outfit you’d be parading around in for an undetermined amount of time. You’d know then that it would be comfortable and would look damn good on you. You wouldn’t have to worry about being too hot or cold, because you know they’d make sure you had the option to be neither. But an ideal world you are not in. 

Your outfit for this Game is filled with a lot of layers. It’s all black, with a few neon colored lines that appear to be there in an attempt to sculpt the body. You’re guessing that the color of the lines will depend on your District number, as that’s a common occurrence in Game. It seems Districts 11’s color for the year is green, how fitting. There’s some baggy looking cargo pants, with a heavy belt around your natural waist holding them up. Underneath that is a long sleeved leotard with thumb holes in the sleeves to cover your hands and a strange neckline that can be used as a handkerchief to cover the bottom half of your face. On top of it all is a cropped black jacket with a hood, some durable combat boots with knee high black socks underneath, and some gloves to cover your hands. 

It makes you afraid of what you might face in the Arena. Could you be in a freezing climate where all these layers will be necessary to survive at least a little while? Or are you going to be somewhere where you need to be able to hide well from mutts or cover as much of you as possible like a desert? These clothes aren’t going to be the best to move around in, and you hope they’ll keep you at least a little warm, but you honestly have no clue what to expect. At the very least you could take off layers should you get hot, because there are plenty of them. 

All in all, you feel like you’re about to walk into a straight up apocalypse. And you might not be too far off. 

“Well,” Isley says excitedly, “if this outfit does one thing, it makes you look like a badass.”

You fake indignation and flip your hair over your shoulder, “Please. As if I need an outfit to do that.” 

She just rolls her eyes as the both of you laugh. 

“I’d still prepare for some cold nights.” Isley tells you. “A lot of that material is really thin or reflects body heat, so you probably won’t get much help there.” 

“Not to mention what the Arena might be like.” She adds darkly. 

“Thanks, this is really what I need to hear.” You joke lightly. 

You didn’t think you’d ever feel so relaxed or be joking before entering this game of death, but you had surprisingly become very attached to those around you this whole journey. It’s probably been a bad idea on all of your parts, but it's too late now. At least you got to enjoy it while it lasted. 

But then again, you think to yourself, maybe you had just gotten all of your emotions out yesterday so there was nothing left but calm acceptance. That’s also a likely option, maybe it’s a combination or a lot of things in one. 

You take a deep breath as you tuck the locket you had been fiddling with as far under your clothing as you can get it. You want it to be safe, and as close to you as possible. It’s constant weight near your heart calms you. 

You feel a heavy silence settle over the room, the air growing darker by the second. You hate to be around such weight. Taking this time, you decide to write down any last minute things you can think of. Isley makes her way over to sit next to you, maintaining body contact the whole time though not talking. It’s her subtle way of comforting you with her presence. You both know she’s there for you if you need anything. 

Just as you finish writing everything you can think of, a calm female voice tells you it’s time to prepare for launch. Sighing, you hand the notebook to Isley one last time. 

“Make sure everyone reads it, alright?” You ask her. And though her eyes are teary, she nods and gives you a sweet smile. 

She walks you over to the metal plate that will send you into this gladiator death match, gently taking your hand and holding it for as long as she possibly can. There’s no use saying anything at this point, as you had said everything you needed to. And if you hadn’t, it was written down in the book she held right now. Besides, you both know there is no need to remind you of what to do once you enter the Game. 

As the glass cylinder begins its descent to cut you off, she taps under your chin and gives you a smile, before pulling away. 

You smile back at her, and settle into a comfortable yet confident stance at her reminder. You didn’t necessarily feel that way, but it was what you wanted people to see. You watch her for as long as you can before you’re surrounded in darkness.

* * *

With the few seconds you have, you take a deep breath and feel a shift in your body. While your stance seems almost the same, there was a slight tension there as you prepare to jump into action as soon as you are able. You can feel that energy filling you again, that one that awakens your mind and sharpens your surroundings to a crystal clear level. 

There was no place for emotion here, only intense focus, determination, and strength. You weren’t afraid, because you had tasks to complete. You were fully capable of shutting everything out in order to achieve those things, relying heavily on survival and only that. It was something you hadn’t let overtake you in a very long time. To be honest, you didn’t think you would ever be feeling it again in your life. But there’s always room for surprises. 

You are suddenly blinded by light as you arrive in open air, but you quickly blink your eyes to adjust and immediately begin surveying your surroundings. You ignore the other Tributes, deciding to take in the Arena around you first and foremost. 

You’re in an area filled with what you assume used to be stunning architecture that you're not familiar with. It’s all fallen to ruin now. The still beautiful stone was covered in wildlife from what seemed like years of disuse. When you look farther, you see that the ruins are integrated into and surrounded by a giant forest. 

The trees were the biggest you had ever seen, towering several stories above you like a skyscraper from the Capital. With swirling trunks and branches so thick you think they could easily hold all 24 of you and still have plenty of room to move. They also had a look to them that you didn’t recognize. By the looks on everyone’s faces, they didn’t know either. In fact, every single thing you see looks unfamiliar and alien. It’s like you’re on a completely different planet, and a stunning one at that. But unknown can be extremely deadly, and if this is what the rest of the Arena looks like then you’ll have to be very careful about interacting with everything. 

“Ladies and gentlemen!” Claudius Templesmith booms throughout the Arena after the few seconds it takes you to survey your surroundings, “Let the Sixty-sixth Annual Hunger Games begin!”

Sixty seconds is all you get to decide what to focus on next. 

While you can’t see it immediately, you notice that you hear water nearby. Upon further inspection you find a surprisingly wide waterway built into the ruins that runs off into the ground below. You’re elevated above the ground right now, probably at least a story or two. This would be a good spot to stay if you dared, but you won’t be. 

You swing your attention over to the Cornucopia and your eyes quickly roam over its contents. All the usual things are there, and since you aren’t aiming for it it doesn’t really matter to you. You look outwards and attempt to find something to grab on the edge of everything.

Lucky for you, you find a backpack right on the very edge of this level of the ruins. It's closer to the mouth of the cornucopia than all the others, which means that it’ll probably have some good stuff in it. Thankfully it’s still far enough away that if you book it, you could get it and be out of here before the others even make it to the hoard. On your way you can even swoop down to grab a loaf of bread you see and possibly a small string of throwing knives by the looks of it. Your path might end up swinging a bit, but if you're quick enough none of that will matter. 

With your target locked, you take this time to survey the other Tributes. You look at how they’re all reacting, who seems ready for a fight and who seems like they’ll break down and be killed? You watch where their eyes go, are they aiming for something in the Cornucopia or are they planning to run? Who’s going to go which direction? Who might you encounter on your escape route? You try your best to get as much of it as you can in the short amount of time remaining. 

“May the odds be ever in your favor.” Echoes around you. 

When the gong sounds, you run for your life. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so excited. You guys get to see all of the plans I worked so hard to create soon. This took a lot of time and effort, so I hope you end up enjoying it. 
> 
> Tell me what's up and I'll see you next time!


	14. We're Not In Kansas Anymore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Arena is like nothing you've ever seen. You don't know how you're going to make it out of this one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For this entire Arena, think Pandora from Avatar. A beautiful, but extremely deadly, alien planet filled with creatures and plants unlike anything we have on Earth.
> 
> Also, this is the start of getting a lot of Y/N's backstory. I know a lot of people probably won't like having so much just decided for the character and that it could make it harder to believe, but there had to be something there in order for the personality I needed for the reader to be developed in the first place. Also remember that this was an OC insert at first and then I edited the hell out of it to make it a reader insert. So if you don't like it, sorry. I hope most of you can stand it though cause it's not going to stop here. I need character and relationship building for everyone and this exposition via Y/N is how I do it. 
> 
> Want a more immersive reading experience? Use the google chrome extension InteractiveFics to replace things like Y/N with words and names of your choice: [https://chrome.google.com/webstore/detail/interactivefics/pcpjpdomcbnlkbghmchnjgeejpdlonli/related?hl=en](url)

**_Y/N’s POV_ **

It’s probably the fastest you’ve ever run in your life. You’re thankful you had worked on both short and long distance running throughout some of your freetime at home, because you have a feeling it’s certainly going to be dire to your survival. It’s almost as if you’re floating across the ground as you bolt through the treasures littered around the spiraling golden Cornucopia. You bend down twice to grab your other two items on the way to your backpack, never stopping your fast pace. 

The blood is rushing so hard in your ears that you barely register the sounds of others behind you, not daring to look back and see what’s happening. Nothing else matters but your survival. This is an environment where if you hesitate you die. 

As soon as you grab the backpack by the handle you pull it into your arms and unzip it enough to shove your newly obtained items inside. You don’t even get a peak at what’s in there, you’ll have plenty of time for that later. As you approach the edge of this level you start to look for a way to get down safely. You’re two stories up, but there is a level in between you and the ground that isn’t too far of a drop. You’re so thankful you’ve been able to practice falling from distances like this through exiting trees in the orchard. You’re fully capable of making it down safely. 

As you throw your backpack over your shoulders and tighten into your body, you leap into open air and begin your fall to the intricately decorated rock below. At the last second, you shift your body so you can easily roll through your landing without too much pain from the impact, coming up in a way that allowed you to continue your sprint. After a few more seconds, you start to reach the next edge and see that this time there are large slabs of fallen stone that you could use as giant steps. Though your path becomes jagged as you zig zag across them, trying your best to absorb the shock of landing where you can, you take it all as quickly as you can. 

When your feet finally hit the ground you look quickly over your shoulder to see if anyone is following you. When you see no hints of anyone you turn away from the increasing sounds of battle above you and charge through the forest. 

It’s still too early to tell, but you may have just escaped the bloodbath alive. 

* * *

You’re thankful that the odd forest floor is fairly clear. Besides the large tree trees that surround you, there wasn’t a whole lot of foliage. The ground underneath your heavy feet is covered in a soft purple moss like material that makes your footfall a lot quieter. You have no doubt that if you were to slow down and sneak your way through the woods no one would be able to hear you coming. With that being said, the ground it covered was firm enough that despite the slight cushion you could easily run without losing your balance. If you paid more attention to it you would be amazed as it glows slightly with each step you take. 

The few plants you do breeze past are large, and look nothing like anything you’ve ever seen before. Though they seem harmless, you don’t have the time or the will to actually test that appearance. You can hear the distant sounds of creatures around you, birds above your head and small critters crawling below. Fortunately, you don’t run into any of them, as you’re sure most everything in this Arena was made with the goal of killing you. That is after all the point of this whole thing. And you believe that Vivienne Cassiopeia is a cruel woman. In the back of your mind you know that they probably wouldn’t kill someone so quickly in the Game through their own devices, and the Cornucopia Bloodbath will likely be enough to fulfill the audience's thirst for blood for at least a few days. But it’s better to be safe than sorry. 

As you run you see even more ruined structures throughout the wood, though none to the level of the lost civilization you started in. Yes, the area does seem like it could be a very nice home. You could definitely see yourself being able to survive here. But being so close to the Cornucopia was dangerous, as it’s normally the Career’s stomping grounds. No, you’d much rather be as far away from them and other Tributes as possible. Now that just means that you’ll eventually have to deal with whatever event they decide to spring on you later in an attempt to draw everyone back to the starting point for the final showdown, if you last that long. But you’d rather deal with that than be outnumbered by a group of highly trained teenagers ready for the kill. 

Though you don’t stop moving, your speed does slow down and increase periodically in an attempt to save your energy and stamina. You need to scope out the Arena, and hopefully you’re getting enough of a head start that you can do so without running into any other Tributes. Though you’re pretty sure they’re all preoccupied right now as the bloodbath normally lasts a while. A part of you hopes that none of the dead Tributes at the end of it all are Marselle, but it’s largely overwritten by the need to focus on your own life. 

You pull to a sudden stop as suddenly the forest around you ends, your feet start to slip out from under you. You manage to catch yourself right before you run off a cliff. Staring down the edge with wide fearful eyes, you realize that that’s not a cliff. The ground just stops a ways down, and far _far_ below is the ground. It’s so far down that you can’t even make out anything except general land changes and formations. 

“Oh my god.” You mumble to yourself, not able to take your eyes away. 

Are you…… Are you floating?

A sharp cry makes your head shoot up and your mouth drops open at the site before you. 

“ _Holy shit_ …” You swear under your breath. 

Around you, filling the sky, are giant floating islands. Each one looks just as alien as the next. You barely recognize what any of them are supposed to be at first glance. You can see five large land masses similar to the one you’re on, each housing their own environment, climate, and dangers. They’re all at different altitudes and distances from each other, connected by many things including thick ropes, chains, vines, or far smaller pieces of floating land in between. 

Weaving between the islands and gliding powerfully through the sky are large bird-like creatures that send fear through your heart. Their feathers are bright and multicolored, showcasing almost every shade of the rainbow. Patches around their body are thick fluffy looking white fur that accented against the short dull brown hair it sits atop. Though they’re quite a distance away, their lengthy beaks and deadly sharp talons glisten in the sun. The tail that whips behind them agitatedly is long, with a thick barb filled webbing on the end that reminded you slightly of a fish tail. Their build makes you think of what the legendary griffon might look like, with a large eagle shaped head and a thick muscular body that reminds you more of a beast than a feathered flier. 

There were so many, and they seemed to be prowling all of the islands and the space between for their next meal. You hope you aren’t it. 

Knowing you need to think quickly, you decide to turn your attention away from the mutts as you back away from the edge. You don’t like being so close to it that one wrong move or a simple push could send you plummeting to your death. 

You decide to survey each island and decide where to go from there. Staying on this one is not the best option for you right now, it would be too difficult to avoid the Careers and other Tribute’s all Game here. So your best hope is to move to another island. 

The closest island is a little below you and looks absolutely stunning. From what you can see it looks like a large meadow, filled with long grass, rolling hills, and flowers of every color. A big portion of the flat plain is also taken up by a beautiful clear lake, which seemed to be filled with colorful shining stones. The sky above it is relatively clear, with a few clouds and a seemingly permanent rainbow. You can’t immediately see any creatures on the island, but you don’t think it’ll be a very sustainable place to take up camp. Especially not with so little ways to hide. You had a feeling no matter where you were on the island you’d be able to see any other Tributes inhabiting it with you. While that makes hunting down and in turn escaping others easier, it's not what you’re aiming for. It sure does seem like a beautiful place to die though. 

Moving on to the one hovering far below you and a large distance away, is a bay area. The crescent shaped sandy shoreline is filled with white looking sand that dissolves into a calm looking ocean that covers the rest of the cylinder before falling off into the abyss and transforming into mist. The further you go into the shoreline the more it dissolves into a tropical looking rainforest. Though you could probably get enough food based on the small signs of movement you can barely see in the water, and the cover you could also get from the trees, you don’t think this island will work for you either. A beach environment is not one you feel confident in and with so little actual land to be on, you would run into any other Tributes on the cove easily. 

On the same level as you, but the farthest ways away, is an island that showcased two extremely hot biomes mashed into one. On one side was a sprawling sandy desert with rocky mountains, and on the other was an active lava field and volcano. While you doubt anyone would be willing to live on that island and that in and of itself promised little chance of death via other Tributes, when water is your first priority that is most certainly not the right place to go. Sure, you may be able to find things like cacti to get water from, but from this distance you can’t tell if there even are any. And if there are, they’re probably few and far between. You doubt there are any other forms of water there. So that is a big no on your part. 

A little ways above you, almost as far away as the volcanic desert is what looks like a thriving rainforest. The swirling storm clouds above it promise rain, and you know there must be a river of some sort on it as you can see two different waterfalls tumbling off the side in a similar way to the beach island. The trees and foliage look so thick that you can’t even see past the outside layer. That would provide you the coverage you need and most likely your prefered way of travel through the treetops. There is also a promise of water in at least two different easily accessible forms. And even more options for water present themselves if you know what to look for, as a rainforest is one of the most moist and humid places you can get. 

The problem with a jungle like that though is that they are filled to the brim with dangers, and considering the fact that this whole world seems straight out of a fantasy you don’t think you’ll be finding anything you recognize in there. Which makes everything you’ll see a million times more threatening. If there was any place you had seen so far that would be infested with muttations, this would be the one. That could mean fewer people are willing to actually brave that area, but you can never be too sure. Despite that, you have to admit that it seems to be the best option so far in providing what you need. 

Keeping that in mind, you shift your focus to the final island. This one is far above the rest, and space wise lands in between the meadow and the beach islands. With the good angle you have you can see a huge barren mountain that takes up almost the entire thing. Everything seemed to be covered in blinding snow, but even then the dark clouds above promised there was more to come. You think you see a few trees, but they all look dead and empty from here. You don’t trust the ability to get food there, though there was a good way to get some water through the snow. 

Mentally you sigh, you guess your choice was already made for you then.

Now you try and find a way to get to the island of your choice. Those smaller land masses floating in between the islands connected to three of them in total, those being the one you’re on now, the meadow below you, and the rainforest above you. To get to the beach island you had to make your way out into the floating field, before going the rest of the way on a cluster of ropes tied from the large island to a tiny one. To you, it’s far too large of a distance to go on a ropeway that doesn’t look stable enough to hold you throughout the journey at all. Similarly there are large chains showing the only way to get to the mountain island, and there are vines connecting the volcanic island to the floating pieces and to the rainforest island. Those look far more stable to you than the ropes, but you don’t plan on venturing through any of them if you can help it. One simple wrong move and you’re dead in the air. 

And that’s not even mentioning how uneasy it makes you that those flying birds could snatch you right up, though that could happen no matter what way you travel. At least on the pieces of land you could get some cover. 

So you have to travel to the other island through the floating wasteland, but in a lot of cases those islands are so far apart that there is no way you could possibly jump from one to the other. As you look a little harder, you see that things are floating around the mini islands. Small objects that don’t weigh much like rocks, sticks, and chunks of grass. Suddenly an idea hits you. 

You quickly turn around and search a few feet into the forest. Lucky for you you find a lot of different sized rocks and sticks nearby to test your theory. Once you’ve gathered everything you return to the edge with a rock in hand and do a test throw. The rock eventually makes it over to the nearest piece of land, but it flies weird and takes a lot longer to get there than it normally would. It was almost like it was stalling or floating in the air.

“They changed the gravity in between islands.” You say in awe. You didn’t even know that was something they could do. 

On the bright side, that means you could now jump from island to island. You quickly add your testing items to your backpack. You’re not willing to just jump and see how it goes at this point. If they fucked with the gravity once they could do it again in the middle of the floating field. You want to use your smaller items to test the gravity change and calculate how it might go a bit before you risk your life jumping. 

With that in mind, you set out into the field in the hopes of getting to the rainforest island without being seen by sundown. 

* * *

You take your time as you travel, testing every jump and making sure that you’re out of view from others as best you can. It seems like the larger the land mass, the more normal the gravity seems to get, though none of it is too intense in the middle of the sky away from the bigger islands.

After the first thirty or forty minutes of the whole Game, you hear cannon shots begin. Apparently the Cornucopia Bloodbath has finished and everyone has spread out enough for them to begin the count and retrieval of the bodies. You can’t help it, you count them. There’s a total of seven booms signifying the death of your peers. After that though, it’s silent. The bloodbath is definitely over. Seven deaths wasn’t that big of a number, normally it's a lot more than that. But that just means they get the chance to kick up the intensity for the rest of the Games. There are 17 of you left, and since people have spread out you need to be even more careful than you had been before. You don’t want to be the next shot. 

As you get closer to the jungle island, you notice something that you hadn’t seen from farther away. The platforms of land you’ve been jumping across to get here are still there, but for the last part of the journey they are moving rapidly through the air. Rotating around the island and spinning on their own little axis at different speeds and distances from each other. Well, that makes your job a lot harder. 

* * *

When you finally make it to the island you decide to explore a bit before you figure out where to camp for the night. The sun will be setting soon, so you want to use your limited daylight to the best of your ability. 

Though you didn’t really have much of an opportunity to examine the forest island through all of that running, you do notice some immediate differences between this tree infested grounds compared to the other. 

The trees here are just as huge, but more densely packed than the previous island. You didn’t think of it as an open space when bolting through it, but now that you had this to compare to you had changed your mind. The woods hiding the ruins were like a wide field compared to this jungle. The air here was hot and humid, and you could still hear the churning clouds above you that promised storms. You’ll have to keep the possibility of violent rain in your mind, and you’ll need to stay in places where you don’t risk being flooded out should the water start to pour. While all this moisture could promise many a water source for you to survive on, this kind of atmosphere is also a breeding ground for disease and bacteria. 

Everything thrives in a region such as this, and that means you are most certainly not alone. Though you don’t see any animals or mutts in your small excursion, you hear noises everywhere. There are other things here, and lots of them. The ground here is not soft, instead a hard surface covered in bright red dirt that every so often switches to a sand of slightly lighter color. You don’t trust that change, so you avoid the patches whenever they pop up. It makes the sounds of things creeping around you very apparent. You try your best to maneuver away from anything approaching you, but it’s hard to really tell where anything is. 

The heat bearing down on you is almost unbearable, but you realize that your clothing provides an essential barrier to guard against stings and bites in an area probably littered with insects. The canopy of trees high above you block any light from reaching the forest floor, but that doesn’t help you cool down at all. Now that you think about it, that amount of coverage is probably why the floor of the jungle is bursting with life. Giant plants of all shapes, colors, and sizes surround you. Everything looks odd, in strange shapes and colors you have never seen. It’s extremely hard to navigate down here as you can’t see very far. Some plants seem to be alive, attempting to draw you nearer or move closer to you as you pass. While you try your hardest not to touch anything, some plants even attempt to attack you or hide away as you brush past them. 

You definitely don’t like the looks of things on the ground. When you look up you see trees that go so high you can’t see the top of them. There are several layers of branches throughout the levels that could provide lots of cover. Though you see some shifting throughout the treetops, it’s almost nothing compared to the movement on the ground. Without a machete or anything to that effect to your knowledge on your person, it seems like your best bet is to live in the trees. 

With that, you think it’s a good time to sit down and go through your pack. You’re probably far enough away at this point that you don’t risk running in to anyone for a while. 

As you open your backpack you set everything around you gently, careful about where you place it so you don’t ruin anything or have it touch something it shouldn’t. On top, are of course your many rocks and sticks gathered earlier. You set those on the ground next to you. Underneath those are another thing you knowingly picked up earlier, a loaf of bread and a string of throwing knives. You hadn’t been able to look at it before, but now you see that the cross body belt is almost completely empty. It showcases only 3 polished blades out of the option of 18 total. While some might be disappointed in that haul, you’re thankful for it. You were prepared to go the first chunk of the Game without any blade, so the fact that you have three of the most versatile ones makes you feel a little over the moon in excitement. 

Now getting to the new stuff you see two bags of assorted food, one filled with fruits and berries, and the other with nuts. While neither would be able to last a very long time, if you rationed then well enough they could sustain you for a significant amount of time. Especially considering all of that carbo loading you had done before starting. You feel a thrill go through you at the pack of nuts, knowing that those are some of the best things you can have in a survival situation. They give energy and protein, and can last far longer than anything else that could give you that much needed stamina. 

Below that you find a sturdy gallon sized jug and some water purifying tablets. You know you’ll still test all water sources before using them to catch anything the tablets don’t, but the idea of using these tablets instead of having to somehow boil water every time you find it is very appealing. And below that are more practical tools, which include a surprisingly large section of rope, a _lot_ of fresh medical bandages, and a sleeping bag. Damn, if this is what you get for grabbing something so close to the mouth of the Cornucopia you might wonder why people don’t try for it more often.Except you know, that’s the whole basis for the Bloodbath in the first place. You’re lucky you didn’t have to deal with it. 

Now feeling extremely satisfied with your equipment and energized to take on the Arena, you carefully reorganize everything to fit what you need best and pick a tree to start climbing. 

* * *

You stare up, panting at the odd ever-changing colored sky that you could now see as the Arena begins to fade from day to night. The sounds of the alien jungle never cease as darkness steadily consumes, but maybe it’s gotten just ever so slightly quieter. Everything about this Arena still terrifies you and sets you on edge. It really is a completely foreign place, filled with strange and horrifying things. You swear even the weather or the plants could kill you, and that's not even taking into account the multiple mutts obviously inhabiting the place. You really are far out of your depth here, but so is everyone else. You like to think you've adjusted as well as you could have, though it's not like you have much of a choice. 

You sigh and lean your head back against the enormous tree trunk you had decided to rest against for the moment. Thank god you’re not afraid of heights, or being several stories above the ground like this would really be an issue. In fact, you are so far up that you can’t see the ground anymore. While you had originally planned to stay at the middle level, the promise of seeing the sky and the dead Tribute projections urged you even further up. You’ll probably go down again before you settle down to sleep, not wanting to be rained on too hard if it started in the middle of the night. 

So far though, you like it up here. It's calmer, out of the way from most everything else in this island that you've observed so far. You get plenty of coverage both above and below which makes it hard for anything to notice you, not that most creatures really ever look up without prompting. Your first instinct is to look at what's on the ground around you, not expect some sort of attack from above. 

You think you've done a good job today of avoiding other things and gathering as many useful items as you can. From planning ahead, you got some great stuff from the Cornucopia. Throughout the day you've picked up different rocks and stick to use as a tester in those low gravity areas, but the ones that weren't bulky enough to really weigh your backpack down. From weaving through the trees you've been able to gather odd hanging fruits that you need to test, but look vaguely similar to fruits that you're familiar with. You’re hoping that that's something good to go on and it's something actually implemented in the Arena, because otherwise this is going to be a whole lot more difficult. Though you are expecting the worst, because what reason do they have to not treat you in the worst way possible just for a show, but you’re hoping for the best. 

You plan on using the food you’ve gotten from the Cornucopia as a last resort, so the opportunity of sustenance this early is great. And you might even be able to get a bit of water from the fruit like jems as well, though probably nowhere near enough to sustain you for long. Maybe if you venture towards the ground again you can find some different herbs or roots that could potentially be helpful as well. But again, you’re going off of what looks sort of similar to what you know so everything again has to be tested. And that takes time, but you've still got a little bit before you get truly desperate. 

You think you're really starting to get the hang of traveling through the treetops. Running and maneuvering through the many twisting branches, thick and thin. The vines are even strong enough to hold your weight from what you’ve tested, but you have yet to try something as brave as swinging around on them. Your body strength, balance, flexibility, and parkour abilities are really coming in handy here. While you still test things out to make sure they're safe, you are slowly having to do it less and less now. As you’re able to spot the warning signs little by little. 

Speaking of the vines, they might be a good source for water as well. The process to get water from vines is a little tedious, but it's worth a shot. You'll just have to be careful about consuming it because some vines can release a poisonous substance instead. You have yet to find a good source of water, that being the river you had seen evidence of before coming here. Which is a little strange since everything around you points to an abundance of moisture. With the humid air, and the place literally drowning in vegetation and creature life, it has to be somewhere. For now the plan is to get what you can from the different fruits you’ve collected. If needed you can always collect things like dew from vegetation, rainwater if a storm happens, or even remove water from certain animals. With no way to attempt taping a tree, it’s your best bet. 

You also think that once you find a good spot to camp out, you should venture down farther to set up bait traps. Whether that be for prey on the ground or creatures filling up the trees. It would be worth it to try, though you don't know if you'll get anything at all. You want to use your backpack food for worse case situations. So figuring out which fruit and hunted creatures you can survive on will be almost as important as getting water. 

You sigh, and let your head fall back on the tree trunk with a light thump. There's so much on your mind. So much you want to say out loud, just to get it out there. Maybe it would help to talk to someone. But maybe that would just look stupid. You don't even know if there's a camera nearby to catch it, though they're probably everywhere. Would anyone even care? What's the point? Will it help you survive in the long run?

_Fuck it_ , you decide. If it makes you feel and operate better, that's all that matters. Plus, it could give you an edge over the other Tributes by continuing to play the audience even though you’re in Game and everyone thinks it would stop there. Besides, you’re sure Jiminie and them will appreciate it. There's so much you want to tell them, and you really could go any minute in this crazy place where everyone and everything is out to get you.

“Did I ever tell you about my family?” You ask the thick air. “Like, really tell you about them?”

Only the sounds of the forest respond to you. 

“Hmm… I guess I should start at the beginning.” You muse, feeling the discomfort and awkwardness about doing this slowly begin to fade away. Hey, starting is often the worst part. Talking about things will make you feel better, and you don’t even know if they’re catching anything. You could literally be talking to no one, so what do you have to lose here?

“My father,” You tell the air, “was part of one of the wealthier families in the District. While my mother was from one of the poorest. She really was a beautiful woman, I can’t imagine how many told her that throughout life. When he fell for her, everyone around him told him to just ignore her, that someone so low like that wasn’t worth his time. He didn’t listen though. He loved her so much, in fact, that he decided to leave his wealth behind and be disowned just to be with her.”

A small smile reaches your face at the idea. It seemed sweet, almost made you believe that they really did love each other and have a life before the horrible things you experienced with them. 

“Huh.” You huff in amusement as a thought crosses your mind. “I guess that story may sound familiar, doesn’t it Jimin?”

You can’t believe you at least to some extent repeated your parents' love story. You pray that that’s where the similarities will stop though. 

“They were happy.” Your smile falls. “But it didn’t stay that way.”

“My father, he-,” You sigh. “After a while, he began to regret his decision. He loved her, but he didn’t know if it was worth it. His life was so different now, a lot harder than it had been. We had to work harder for our food, to stay warm at night, just to get by. And it didn’t make it easier when I came along.” 

“He began to come home feeling hopeless, which led him to solve his problems through alcohol.” You tell them.

“He became an alcoholic.” You admit with ease, having long since accepted it, “And then… he also became an abuser.”

“At first, it was just my mother. Then it shifted to the both of us. And then, he tended to focus on me. See, they managed to get by well enough before I was born, so naturally it was my fault they struggled so much. When my little brother, Owen, was born it all became so much worse. But he didn’t have the guts to hurt him, so the next obvious choice was me.”

You pause for a moment, a little tense as memories long past flashed in your mind. You hadn’t thought of most of them in so long, though a few had been brought up recently in your interview. You’d spent enough time coming to terms with it all that it didn’t bother you as much anymore. It only seemed to cause an issue for you on the rare occasion that you had a nightmare about it and were taken to the past in the form of being trapped in your child self, forced to relive the beatings.

“My father died quickly after Owen was born in a field accident with some farming equipment.” You say. “I don’t know if Jillian remembers, but he tried his best to treat him. He was too injured though, bleeding out right there on the field.” 

You close your eyes and lean your head back heavily against the tree, tired of staring uselessly at the world around you. Searching for anything to focus on in a ridiculous attempt to hopefully find a camera. “My mother couldn’t handle being without him. One day, not too long after, she shoved Owen into my arms and threw me out of the house. She locked all the ways to get in. I watched through the window as she comitted suicide.”

This time, you pause for far longer. Some of this you’ve never told anyone before. It felt strange, to finally say it out loud, “......With nowhere else to go, we were forced to live on the streets. I tried my hardest to take care of both of us, I really did. I even gave Owen food and water before myself, but he didn’t make it. He died in my arms.”

That one right there is the hardest thing to say. You don’t think you’ll ever be able to move on from the fact that your little brother died because you couldn’t take care of him well enough. 

“He had just started really developing a personality.” You explain desperately. “He was looking at the world in awe, finally trying to figure out how everything around him worked even though we were in a horrible situation. He was learning so much. He still showed so much joy. He had so much ahead of him.”

You rub your eyes desperately, not willing to let any of the wetness behind them escape. You take a few deep breaths to calm yourself down. You don’t have to say any more. You don’t owe them anything. But you decide to switch topics a bit, not wanting to stop now that you’ve started. 

“You know, my parents never really helped me out growing up. I was always a very independent child, because I had to be. My mother wasn’t interested in doting on me, choosing to focus on my father instead. I had to learn how to take care of myself, and then Owen, pretty early on.”

You look up at the sky in thought. “It was strange, my mother always remembered my father as the person she fell in love with, the one that was happy. She knew what he had become, but decided to ignore it and pretend everything was fine. I think she even started believing his twisted ideas on why things went wrong near the end, and she always defended him and his actions no matter what. She devoted herself fully to him, often not caring about her own children. She couldn’t stand to be without him, so she left us behind to follow him. I told myself I’d never be like that....” 

You don’t want to admit that now you may understand it all a bit more. You want to give everything you have to Jimin. You’re obviously willing to sacrifice your life for him otherwise you wouldn't be here. And while you know you can’t have kids, you had hoped that despite all that you would have treated them better should the opportunity present itself. Now you might not get the chance to do any of it. 

You jump a bit as the anthem that starts the day's death recap blasts through the Arena, startling you out of your thoughts. You look up at the sky to watch the seven faces of the now dead children pass by. There are pauses in between, which are filled at home by scenes of their death. However, we are only forced to stare at the same picture we’ve seen the whole Games, and their sad District number below them. They don’t even have the decency of giving us their names one last time, and that sickens you.

The first faces to show are both Tributes from District 5. You wince slightly at that, tough day for them. Apparently all the Careers had survived though. Next, shockingly, are both Tributes from District 6. Good lord, how many of them lost all of their people today? Are others pairing up? Is that why they both died? Following that, is the boy from 7. It’s starting to look like what you expected, the higher number Districts are starting to lose people quickly. It changes to the girl from 8. As there’s another pause before the last Tribute shows, you feel yourself uselessly hope it's not two different people. 

Sadly, your heart drops when you end up staring at Marselle’s face for the last time. You gasp a little as a wave of emotion hits you. You shakily look away. There you are, 7 people gone in one day. A relatively low number, all things considered. And though you’re thankful it isn’t you, it still hit you hard. Not just because of Marselle, but at the fact that you’re in this situation in the first place. They’re all just as terrified as you. They’re all trying their best like you.

………They’re all exactly the same as you. And it’s unfair that you live in a place where this kind of thing happens. 

The seal of the Capitol disappears, and the sky quickly darkens into full blown nighttime. The temperature drops dramatically as well. 

Knowing you can’t stay here with the rumbling clouds so close, you begin your trek down to a more manageable level. Once you feel you’ve found a good spot you quickly set to work. Shoving your backpack into the bottom of your bag and tying your rope around you, your sleeping bag, and the branch you’ve decided to lay on. This way you won’t fall to the ground. You’re thankful now that you have the opportunity to cover almost every inch of you with material. You check yourself before doing so and then crawl into your bag to cover up as much as possible. You’re going to have to check everything for little invaders before settling down and setting off every time, just so nothing small gets you. 

Before you completely barricade yourself in, you look around sadly. 

“I’m sorry, Marselle.” You whisper.

You hadn’t known him long, and he definitely hadn’t treated you well over all. But near the end there he really seemed to lighten up and become far more friendly. Maybe it was a horrible form of self-fulfilling prophecy that he thought he had no chance of survival and died on the first day, not even making it past the first hour or possibly even the first few minutes. Maybe he panicked, maybe he got angry and tried to fight, or maybe he simply didn’t make it as he tried to run away. Whatever it was, you hope it had been as quick and painless as possible. Though you’re sure someone else killed him, you don’t have it in you at the moment to hate the other Tributes. You do however, freely place the blame on the ones in charge of all this. 

Sighing deeply you reach under your leotard to clench your locket. 

“Goodnight, Jimin.” You say, before hiding yourself away from the terror that surrounds you. 

You might actually get sleep tonight, as you’re far more comfortable than a lot of the other Tributes probably are. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was a lot. Guys, we're actually building a backstory here, whaaaaat? 
> 
> There is so much more to come, but hey, we all survived the first day!
> 
> Please tell me what you think and I'll see you next time!


	15. Things Are Starting To Pick Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It seems like you're riding on a bit of a lucky streak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas everyone! Happy holidays to those that celebrate other things. And if you don't celebrate anything then here's a nice gift. 
> 
> Want a more immersive reading experience? Use the google chrome extension InteractiveFics to replace things like Y/N with words and names of your choice: [https://chrome.google.com/webstore/detail/interactivefics/pcpjpdomcbnlkbghmchnjgeejpdlonli/related?hl=en](url)

**_Y/N’s POV_ **

You wake up from your light doze just before dawn, having slept more than you thought you would being unbothered in the trees. Of course, you hadn’t ever really entered a deep sleep and woke up often at any hint of danger. You had experience sleeping that way from having to tend to patients all night at times. So while you don’t feel like you’ve recovered exponentially, you’ve probably done better than a majority of the others still alive. 

You sigh as you exit your sleeping bag and begin to check everything before you pack to move again today. You’re extremely lucky to have gotten a sleeping bag, as it had gotten cold very quickly last night. It was only the first night and you’re sure it’ll get even colder from here on out, but the ability to stay warmer and not have to grit your teeth to make it through the night made you thankful. 

Your main goal today, is to make your way further into the island in the hopes of finding that river. You need a more consistent water source. Right now, you haven’t been able to test any of your other options to see if they can hold you over a little while longer. But the dryness in your throat was becoming very noticable, as well as the hunger beginning to gnaw at your stomach. Of course, you’re no stranger to either of them. You just haven’t had to deal with dehydration or starvation for quite a while. You morbidly think that it’s as if you’re welcoming an old friend, mentally settling yourself in for what’s to come. You’re going to have to ration everything, and your body is going to hate you. It may take a long time to recover from this, but you have to make it out of here alive. 

As you have a little while before you have to move you take the time to start your test of the new fruit you’ve found. As the process can take almost a whole day per plant, you decide to pick one to test. You choose a bright magenta fruit that’s covered in textured deep blue swirls and has little hairs on it. It’s one of the larger ones you’ve gathered, so hopefully it ends up passing the test as it could give you a good chance at both food and water. The first test is the smell test. And since it doesn’t have any type of strong unpleasant odor, you take that as a good hint to proceed. 

Taking a piece of the plant you rub some on the inside of your elbow and your wrist, deciding it may be better to be safe than sorry. It doesn’t immediately cause any skin reaction, but you know you’ll have to wait out the recommended 15 minutes just to make sure. Knowing you have some time, you begin your much slower trek through the trees. In an effort to really start conserving water, you’re implementing some more strategies today. 

While you don’t feel comfortable not moving at all, you take things a lot easier today. You rest often and do none of the crazy amounts of climbing you did yesterday. If you can avoid exerting yourself in any way, you do so. The human body loses around 2 to 3 litres per day through sweat and loss of bodily fluid. Your goal is to try and keep that amount as low as possible. Even though you’re in the shade, you’re surrounded by hot and humid air. It makes the opportunity to avoid perspiration a little difficult for you. You try your best to breathe through your nose, and when you do rest you attempt to find the coolest spot possible. 

After your time is up, with no noticeable skin reaction, you perform the contact test on your lips next. Another 15 minutes goes by and you’re getting a little hopeful that this plant might actually pass the tests. You’d be very lucky to have picked a good one on the first try, though you have a long way to go before you know if that’s true. You gently take a small pinch of the plant and put it on your tongue, not swallowing it though. You let it sit there for quite a while, though no irritation occurs. With no bitter or soapy taste as of yet, you decide to try another piece, this time chewing it while you wait for the time to pass. 

When you still make it through the test unharmed, you know it’s relatively safe to eat the small portion. Now comes the long waiting game. It’s best to wait around 8 hours to see if the plant causes you any side effects before you can take about a 4th of a cup's worth of it for yet another 8 hour test. After that, it's safe to eat. If you experience any unwanted effects from the fruit during these two tests, you’re supposed to induce vomiting and drink lots of water to counteract it. Sadly, that last part is the whole reason you’re traveling in the first place. So if that happens and you haven't found the river and purified any water to drink, you're just going to have to figure it out. You'll most likely just have to throw up and hope you'll be fine after that. 

Now that you’re becoming more familiar with the treetops around you, and in the interest of traveling farther with not as much effort, you decide to explore the idea of swinging around on vines. It takes time to work your courage up, and a lot of calculating and testing, but eventually you manage to figure it out. You don’t want to admit it, but it’s actually quite fun. And it’s a lot easier than walking and climbing the whole way yourself. 

You only hear one cannon shot throughout the day, and it startles you to say the least. You’d become so used to the noise of the jungle that the deafening boom out of nowhere was a surprise. It was almost as if, for a second, you had forgotten you were in the Games and people need to die for you to win. You guess it’s time to really start picking off Tributes then. You had hoped they would wait at least a few days after the bloodbath but at the same time with 17 people left you still had a very long way to go before the end. There’s 16 of you alive now. 

As the day draws to a close, with still no river in sight, you make your way up again to figure out who’s left in the Game with you. You are far more exhausted today than you had been yesterday, and you know that tomorrow is just going to be worse. The tiredness and effects of dehydration are starting to hit you, despite trying your best to make it easier on yourself. You take the time as you wait for the death showcase to relax as best you can. Since your strange fruit has given you no signs of being harmful, you take the next recommended amount. If you wake in the middle of the night with issues then you’ll have to figure it out. You’re really hoping though that this pulls through the last stretch though. You’re desperate for anything right now. 

Today you lost the District 12 male Tribute. It makes you wonder where everyone else is. How many of the islands are inhabited right now? A better question yet, are any of them on this island with you? You’re curious if the other islands are anything like what you thought they would be at first glance. Are they easier or harder to live on than this one? What are their lives like right now in such a wildly different place? 

And that brings your thoughts to the possibility of leaving the island. Would it be safe to do so? You naturally know you’ll be forced out eventually. But you could leave and go somewhere else at any time. Would leaving the island be more or less dangerous the longer the Game goes on? Why would you want to risk it when you’re slowly starting to become more familiar and comfortable with your surroundings? Well if there is one thing you know for certain it’s that if you don’t get water soon, you won’t be able to make such a trip. Even now you’re sure you couldn’t. 

Instead of climbing back down to camp, you slide smoothly down some of the many hanging vines. These gloves they gave you sure have been useful. As you set things up for the night, you wonder what you could talk about today. With the growing ache in your chest not caused by the lack of water, your mind eventually settles on a topic. If you had started so early in your life before, you might as well continue on that thought for tonight. And there’s someone that’s been there for most of it that you miss greatly. 

“I bet a lot of you are curious about Jimin and I’s relationship.” You start out amused, “Why don’t we take a trip down memory lane, Minnie?”

You think about it for a second, “I’d say that the first time I really started noticing him was after Owen died on the streets. For all I know he could have known about me before that, but I didn’t know about him until then.”

“I actually found him kind of annoying at first.” You admit with a frown. “He started… I don’t know, hovering around me. I gradually started seeing him everywhere at the corners of my vision. He was always so well fed, and he was obviously taking good care of himself as he was always clean with nice clothes. I could tell immediately he was from one of the richer families in the District. He never came up to me, he just stared. Granted a lot of people did, but most of the time it was with pity or disgust. He just looked curious, but I still lumped him in with everyone else. I thought he didn’t understand what I was going through and he was looking down on me.”

You smile wistfully. “Imagininging him ever treating me like that now seems crazy though.”

“He started giving me things. Food, water, clothing. But he didn’t say anything. He would just creep up to me like I was going to hurt him, gently set it down or shove it in my hands, and then run away with the darkest blush on his face. It was really cute actually, I think he was afraid to talk to me.” You laugh at the thought. “I’ll admit, the first few times I didn’t accept his gifts. I didn’t want pity. But eventually I came to realize that he was just a nice person and wanted to help.” 

  
  


You pause for a while, admittedly winded from all of the talking. You take a few deep breaths and try to ignore the pounding in your head. 

“Do you remember the first thing you said to me, Jimin?” You ask him quietly. 

“.... I remember.” You tell him. “You came up to give me some fruit of all things. I was fed up with you never saying anything so I snapped at you. ‘Aren’t you at least going to tell me your name?’ “

“I waited for you to answer and you just looked at me terrified. So instead I said ‘Alright Stranger, why are you giving me all of these things? Answer that one at least.’ “

“And you said, ‘Because you deserve it.’ I’ll never forget that. I don’t know how you saw something worth it in me when you didn’t even know me. I got kind of mad about it too. ‘You don’t even know me.’ I had said.“

“You told me, ‘Well, no one deserves to be treated like this. I have too many things, and you don’t have enough. There’s no use letting it go to waste.’ And then you left. You came back the next day, and this time instead of handing me something and leaving, you decided to stay and enjoy it with me. Eventually I got you to talk more and more.” You can’t help but smile thinking about it. “You really do like to talk when you’re comfortable with someone.” 

“After that, you were always around. It seemed like everywhere I went growing up you followed. Jillian often called you my shadow. I never really knew why you were so interested in me of all people.” You muse. 

“I called you Stranger for a long time, I didn’t figure out your name until I lived with Jillian and your mother found you there after you’d been injured. You never did tell me why you waited so long to tell me. Maybe I’ll always wonder about that too.”

You sigh deeply, you guess you should go to bed. There’s so much more you could tell them about Jimin. Maybe you can fill tomorrow’s silence with that. But right now, you’re tired and you know you should get sleep while you can. 

You pull the locket out and twirl it a bit in your hands.

“Goodnight, Jimin.”

* * *

You wake in the morning to a large crash of thunder, followed by beautiful rain. You’re so excited by the opportunity to get at least a little water that you jump and whoop in joy. You set to work quickly, finding a nice spot to collect the rainwater spilling down the giant leaves around you with their warm colored hues. You don’t necessarily get a lot, especially considering how large of a container you have, but it will hold you over till you can find that river. 

As you wait for the water to fill enough for you to start your journey, you remember that you had tested that fruit last night. Having not felt any side effects, it’s safe to eat now. Which means if you see some of them throughout the day you could stock up on them. That also means you can move on to testing the other fruit. Sadly, the next two you try don’t pass in quick succession. The smooth and shiny black fruit with white and gray specks about the size of an apple causes your skin to develop a small rash within minutes. You use the falling water to clean it off as best you can and decide to keep a close eye on it. You hope that with such little actual contact with it the rash won’t spread and will disappear quickly, but you have no clue how messed up they decided to make this Arena. And a long thin neon green plant with barbs at the top fails the mouth test as it leaves you with an extremely bitter taste for most of the day. As you pack up and start moving you decide to try the small fuzzy yellow berries that remind you of a cluster of grapes next. 

Before you leave though, you wrap some of the many medical bandages you have around the parts of your body that are most likely going to come into contact with the local foliage in the hopes of collecting dew and rain water. You could later ring out the water, or just suck on the wet fabric if needed. Who knows, if it keeps raining all day you could collect a lot more water. Though you’re desperate to chug the precious liquid to quench your thirst, you know you should test it first, take small sips so you don't upset your body, and conserve it for as long as you can.

With a little more energy now that you have water in you, you continue your search for the river. You had no idea when first looking at any of these islands that they would be this big. Though maybe your sense of direction has been skewed enough that despite believing you had been going in a straight line this whole time you really hadn’t been. You could be going in circles this whole time. 

Though that made you really start to think about the size of the islands. Of course, if one had to hold a whole mountain they would have to be pretty big. They all looked like a similar size when you had examined them in the first place, but maybe they actually differed. But then again, when you thought about it the only island you’ve been on enough to figure out its size well enough had been this one. Since you’re assuming you started somewhere in the middle of the forest island, your run through it didn’t really cover much ground. And even then you could have been farther off than the center, making the distance to the edge even shorter.

Either way, you feel like you’ve covered a lot more distance than you expected to in a man made Arena that everyone suspects to be not that big. The idea of having multiple land masses seems strange and new to you, which is probably why it shocked you so much when first seeing it. Normally all Arenas are just one large land mass of some sort. And you’ve never really seen anything based in the sky or so anti-gravity themed like this. Not to mention how everything in the place is alien. It must have taken them forever to come up with this. This seemed like something that took years of work, not a few months. 

Who knows, maybe it had been years in the making. Vivienne has after all been in power for quite a while. And just thinking about how many people it took makes your head hurt. But you have to admit, if you weren’t the one slowly dying inside of it, you would have to give them huge props for this one. Unfortunately for them, you’ve got a little bit of a grudge built up against them. So that's not happening anytime soon. 

* * *

You set your backpack down against the trunk of a tree as you pull down a giant leaf and begin to drink the water flowing down the center. It was time to take a much needed break. Though you weren’t as exhausted as the previous day, you’ve made sure to do it anyway. You don’t necessarily feel like you need it, but with the heat bearing down on you even more thanks to the extra humidity in the air you think it's a good choice. 

When you’re done with the water you quickly settle down to rest after setting your jug up to collect more. The berries you had been testing had made it rather far, and it was looking like you just might have another source of food coming your way. You hadn’t found many, but the ones you did see of that first fruit you found had made their way into your backpack. You don’t necessarily know how long they’ll last, but since you plan on eating them before your packaged food it didn’t matter as much. You plan to eat some after you finish testing these berries, your stomach eager at the prospect despite knowing you still have quite a while to go before you know you really need to start worrying about food. The unfortunate part of finally eating though is that you'll have to put off your testing for about a day, as they recommend you only consume water for several hours before you test plants like that.

You know that once you find the river though you’ll definitely have to travel to the ground below and set up traps. You can’t survive off of fruit the whole Game. You know you’re going to need some meat in you, however odd a creature it may end up coming from. Starting a fire in this jungle might be difficult, but with all the cover you’ll have you don’t think it’ll be as dangerous to start one here as it would be on other islands or even in another more typical Arena. By the time others see the smoke and get to you, you’ll likely have long since left them behind as you don’t really plan on staying anywhere too long. You could also use your opportunity on the rainforest floor to find other useful resources like roots and herbs. 

“You know,” You say to the open air, deciding to add on to your story from last night, “Jimin always thought he had to have some reason to come see me, hence all of those gifts. After I moved in with Jillian and started studying medicine, he thought the only good excuse to see me was if he came there seeking treatment.”

“Would you believe me if I told you that he would purposely get hurt just so he could come see me?” You ask no one in particular. Of course, it was a horrible thing for someone to think and do, but you had long since gotten past the point of being mad at him for it. You all saw it as amusing now. “I know, isn’t that just the dumbest thing you’ve ever heard? No offense, babe, but really? It’s just the only justification that makes sense to a child, I guess.”

You laugh at that, smiling, “Do you remember how mad your mother and I were when we found out, Jimin? I yelled at you, and told you that you could come see me whenever because you wanted to. You didn’t need any reason other than that. We were friends, after all. That’s the normal way to do it.”

You pause for a second, remembering that happier and more innocent time. “He stopped getting hurt after that, well on purpose anyway. But every time he would come to visit he would give me the… absolute _wildest_ excuses. You wouldn’t believe the stuff he’s said to me.” 

You shake your head fondly. It was a running joke at this point. He still did it a lot of the time too. It always made you laugh, so maybe that's why he's kept doing it. 

“Only him.” You say quietly as you look down below you. You absentmindedly bring your hand up to where your locket is resting under your clothing. 

You sigh, face dropping. You really do miss him with all of your heart 

Not wanting to go too far down that rabbit hole of a thought process, you quickly hoist yourself up and get ready to move again. If this is what you’ll have to do all Game to not be sad about it, then it’s what you’ll do. 

Before you go though you make sure to drain any water you've collected from the bandages before reapplying them in hopes for more. 

It rained on.

* * *

You hear two cannon shots during the rest of the day, both of them following each other in relatively quick succession. This time it doesn’t startle you, as after last time you’ve taken to reminding yourself of it periodically. You don’t really have room to be startled here, as that brief moment could mean life or death. The cannon shot might not do it, but if you stay in that mindset you hope you’ll be ready to deal with surprises as they come throughout the Game. 

With the rain just having stopped you debate not making your way up to the skyline to see who it is, but you know you can’t do that. You need to know what your situation is as best you can in a place so wildly out of your control. So you make your way up to see the face of the dead Tributes today. While you wait you drain your bandages one more time. It had actually been a pretty decent way to gather water, your gallon jug now more full than you had thought it would end up being. 

You’re a bit shocked to find that it’s both of the District 9 Tributes. Considering how close the shots were, you’re guessing they had both decided to team up and take on the Arena together for as long as they could. Whatever killed them had been strong enough to do both at the same time basically. It makes you a little fearful of what that might mean for those remaining. What’s out there that has that ability, you find yourself wonder. 

You shake your head, there’s no use in any of that right now. There are 14 of you still here. 

As you make your way down to where you’ll take up camp for the night, you focus on taking deep breaths as you speak. 

“Thinking about it now, the people of our District really did rarely see the two of us without the other.” You say as you drop down to another branch. 

“I don’t know where along the way that it happened,” you admit to them, “but at some point we both fell in love. We didn’t say it out loud, but it showed clear as day. In the way we looked at each other. When we were almost constantly touching. How we could always make the other smile and laugh.” 

You smirk below as you grab a vine to slide down, pausing there for a second, “...I really do love your laugh.”

You have to force yourself to focus and jump down. Finally feeling you were in a decent spot, tonight you didn’t tie yourself to the branch below you. In fact, you leave everything relatively packed with a frown. Something told you not to do it. You were starting to feel uneasy. But you didn’t want to let the audience know that, so you kept going. You don’t even know if they’re even watching, but you need to make sure. 

“I wonder if we fell in love at the same time, or if it happened on separate occasions. Hmm, what about the first time we realized what we had was more than a friendship?” 

You pause in a small moment of realization, “I think the time when I figured it out was after the tracker jacker incident.” 

You would ask if he remembered that, but you know he did. All of you remember it rather clearly. Well, you guess you didn’t really. You were pretty out of it the whole time. But you remember it well after you had recovered enough to be coherent. 

“Ah, you’re probably curious now that I let that one slip, aren’t you?” You ask, thinking of the audience. “How silly of me.”

“We have some issues with tracker jackers in the District sometimes.” You explain for their sake. “Sometimes we get their hives in the less frequented parts of the orchards, or in old buildings like sheds we haven’t used in a while.” 

“Well we were having a big issue with them one summer, people kept getting stung.” You say, though most in your District probably remember the incident. You had had people with jacker venom coursing through them in your house for weeks, many had even died. “The day we took care of the nests, I got too close to one trying to help a civilian get away. There was an accident, the branch holding the hive broke and the nest split right open. I was too close to the nest, I got stung quite a few times. I probably would have died there had Jimin not charged in after me and dragged me out of there.”

You can imagine the audience finding it sickenly sweet almost. Though the whole thing felt heavy to you. You had sugar coated the incident quite a bit. That man you had tried to help was near suicidal. He had been planning to drop the nests on the local Peacekeepers, angry with how he and others had been treated by them in the past. He had been going around aggravating the nest for weeks, causing people to flood your medical area with injuries. You had tried to get him away from the nest when he had revealed his plan and then hit the tree until the branch he had almost sawed clean through earlier broke. He had died quickly, swarmed by angry jackers. Like you had said, you had been too close. You really had almost died that day, as you were one of the unlucky people that had an extremely low tolerance to tracker jacker venom. The visions you had had were horrible. 

“How he managed to get me all the way back to Jillian when he too had been stung I’ll never know. I was out for days, and even though he was going through the same thing too he apparently never left my side while we healed. It was very brave of him, or maybe it was just stupid. When I was finally coherent, that’s when it hit me. That what we had was different.”

Lucky Jimin with his strangely high resistance to the poison. Apparently he had been coherent the whole time, though he had felt horrible.

Looking back, that was probably the event that really set your romantic relationship in motion. You had talked a lot after that, some serious heart to heart talking. You had already been official together for a while by the time his Games rolled around. But even though it hadn’t been long as an actual couple, you had so much more history than that. Nothing you would ever be able to explain or tell people about with mere words. You don’t think you could ever find any words that could properly describe how you feel, even if you lived to be hundreds or thousands of years old. 

Stuck in thought, you take more of that fuzzy yellow fruit that needed to pass the last test on autopilot. 

“And here I am running foolishly in to risk my life for you. Oh how the tables have turned, my love.” You say quietly as you settle into your sleeping bag a little bit later. You’re not uncomfortable in the sense of physically not being able to lay in a good spot. You just feel off, on edge. Though you don’t know why. You’re definitely not going to reach any sort of deep sleep tonight. 

Things have been going a little too smoothly for you. And you don't like what that could mean.

They’ve managed to kill 3 more people, but your time so far has been fairly worry free. You highly doubt people are satisfied right now. They’re going to need something to spice things up and soon. And since you’re quite possibly still the favorite, it may not be too out there for you to think you might be one of their top choices on the list. Maybe that’s a bit paranoid and conceited of you to think. But it doesn’t hurt to be prepared. 

“Goodnight, Jimin.” You say, though whether it would be or not the judges were still out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're not ready for what I have in store for you. But that's alright. 
> 
> Leave a comment on how things are going and I'll see you next week.


	16. Trouble Aplenty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of course it all had to come crashing down on you eventually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Want a more immersive reading experience? Use the google chrome extension InteractiveFics to replace things like Y/N with words and names of your choice: [https://chrome.google.com/webstore/detail/interactivefics/pcpjpdomcbnlkbghmchnjgeejpdlonli/related?hl=en](url)

**_Y/N’s POV_ **

You wake to an electrifying energy deep in your bones. You don’t know what it is that’s woken you, but the sudden change from sleep to hyper awareness is startling to say the least. You do not feel safe. The hair all across your body stands on end in seconds as goosebumps spread throughout you. What is happening? What’s made you react this way without even being fully aware yet? And then you realize…

You’re being watched. 

This is not the feeling of the cameras on you or even the audience staring at you and fueling your confident facade. This feels like the eyes of a predator. That means that you’re the prey and your life is likely in danger. You’re one to trust your instincts, and when your entire being is crying out in alarm you don’t think it’s for no reason. 

You slowly open your eyes. Despite not being awake for more than a few seconds you had spent so long in the dark that your body had adjusted. You can’t see perfectly, it’s still quite dark with no light from above making its way through the treetops to you. But you can’t see anything of worry in the branches in front of you. That means you have to turn around in your sleeping bag. And while that sends even more fear trilling through you, you’re not able to convince yourself to not face the thing that warrants such a reaction. You need to know what you’re dealing with and come up with the best plan you can while you have the opportunity. 

With a shaky breath so light it’s barely audible, you shift on the branch under you, careful about every centimeter you travel. At first, you don’t notice anything. But when you look harder things slowly start to form in the shadows. The first thing you can make out are red pin pricks that seem to glow in the night. When more and more seem to appear, blinking intermittently, you realize that they’re glowing eyes. There’s something filling up the branches mere feet away from you, and there are a lot of them. 

As you focus more on the silhouette holding the eyes, the creature comes into focus. The closest thing you can think of to what it might resemble is a monkey. They were huge, probably easily comparable to your height with maybe a foot or a few distance between the top of your heads. Though their heights differ quite a bit, even the smallest one was far too big for your liking. Their body was just as thick, seeming to only showcase rippling muscles that looked like they didn’t have any skin covering them. The dark pink-red color filled with veins reminded you of just straight muscle tissue and made you feel a little sick. And you’re a healer for a living. 

Though the head was a giant mound it was covered in so much matted fur that only an extremely small portion of the face showed. You would almost find it laughable how small of a face they exhibited if the rest of their body wasn’t so terrifying. Large yellow teeth erupted from their mouth in a way that made it extremely uneven when their mouth was closed. You do not want to feel the power of the bite they likely had. 

Around their stomach and chest area they showed these disgusting spikes that made it look like the area itself was another gaping jaw. They didn’t seem to have hands, and where they would have likely rested is just a stump that splits into claws so large they took up almost two thirds of their body length when lying resting at their sides. They were the same nasty yellow as the teeth above them. If you thought a bite would be bad, you can’t imagine how those talons would rip and tear you apart with ease. The back of their arms and the area below their stomach stopping at the start of their legs was covered in the same twisted fur. Their legs are just as henched as the rest of them, with almost webbed looking feet that remind you of an amphibian. Though these feet did not look delicate like their counterparts, also showcasing fangs similar to the black ones located on the chest and stomach area. You aren’t sure you’ve ever seen a creature with so much thick muscle, it seemed like all they were made of. 

In short, they’re absolutely terrifying. And you are very quickly realizing just how fucked you are. 

Seconds pass, and you know you can’t just sit and stare at them. Waiting for them to get aggravated and attack you while you're just sitting in the open like fresh meat does not appeal to you at all. Though moving even a little or attempting to run could easily provoke the entire pack, you are incapable of trying to wait it out till dawn. You have to fight back somehow. 

So slowly, unbearably slowly, you begin to slide yourself out of your sleeping bag while never taking your eyes off of them. The largest of them all seemed to be the one eyeing you with the most intent. You notice that he showcases several gastly scars across his body, far more than his counterparts. You automatically assume that he is the alpha of the pack. Shockingly, they do not attack you once you start moving. Though their gaze seems to intensify. 

You manage to get out of your sleeping bag and slowly shove it into your backpack, not caring about how it went in as long as it fit and didn’t cause any disruption that might set them off. 

As you slowly let out a shallow breath and zip your bag you wonder desperately what you should do next. They’re all watching you and beginning to shift uncomfortably, though they don’t do anything without the signal of their leader. You’re completely ready to run at this point, but you know doing so will most likely set them off. You highly doubt you’d be able to outrun them as they are obviously much stronger than you. Besides, this is likely their playground, while you had only invaded for a few days. They probably know how to travel through here with ease in their sleep, when you know you’d struggle in the daylight let alone in the dark like this. 

Your hand shifts slightly to grab a throwing knife from the body belt you have been wearing since you got it. Luckily it was black to match the rest of your gear as well. Normally you would wonder how anything could see you so covered in the same shade of the darkness around you, but it likely wasn’t a matter of sight as it was smell. Maybe the audience would feel a thrill as you take a knife from your belt. You had yet to use them as anything other than a tool, and they had no idea how skilled you were with them. They may have just thought you had picked it up at the Cornucopia in hopes of gaining some form of a weapon, which wasn’t necessarily wrong. The idea at finally getting the chance to possibly see why you had gotten an eleven may have them bursting with excitement. Though as quickly as the thought comes you push it away again. You don’t have time for this. 

Maybe you shouldn’t, but you stare down the pack leader without blinking as you subtly shift your grip on the blade from one of throwing to the use of the blade as a slashing weapon. You feel completely out of your depth here, floundering at what to do. 

Lucky for you, they decide for you. 

With a deafening screech, the head of the pack launches himself your way. 

Your mind blanks, and you bolt in the opposite direction. On second thought you tuck your knife back into your belt as you use your other hand to throw your backpack on your shoulders. You probably aren’t going to be doing much fighting right now anyway. 

Correction, this is certainly the fastest you have ever run in your life. 

* * *

You realize very quickly that you were right, you cannot outrun them. You can’t even tell how well you’re doing as you stumble through the dark almost blindly. But you’re sure their screams that fill the air around you are not a good sign. It may be your panic, but it sounds like they have you surrounded. 

You hear a large rustle and look to the side to see a monkey flying through the air towards you. You quickly duck and dive, rolling across the bark before coming up in a run. You’re already out of breath after such a short time, charging through the foliage so hard and fast that you can feel small cuts forming across your uncovered skin. The sting helps ground you a bit. Now is definitely not the time to think about why you seem to respond so to all pain.

You need to think fast. How could you possibly escape them? You can’t keep running like this for long, and with more of them diving and clawing at you by the second you know they’re going to get you soon if this keeps up. 

One of the larger of the beasts lands on a branch that arches ahead of you, causing it to dip heavily from its weight. He grunts loudly, slamming his hands roughly on the wood below him before raising them up in a battle cry. He claws at you as you near and you throw yourself down, the previous momentum causing you to continue moving in a painful slide as his sharp nails cut the air not even a few centimeters away from your face. You only have a second to stare wide eyed with fear before suddenly the branch that was digging a rash painfully into your clothes and skin disappears from under you. 

You fall for several feet before your middle slams heavily into a branch below you, knocking the air out of you and catapulting you off of it. Your back and shoulder area hits the next branch, your head snapping back into the open air so hard you’re almost sure it’ll give you whiplash later. Finally you land roughly on your side on a rather thick branch over ten more feet down. You don’t think you’ve broken anything but you sure are bruised. 

As you gasp for breath, rolling onto your back as the pain rocks you hard, you only hear the sound of a large crack as warning before something is flying quickly towards your face. 

You roll out of the way and off the branch as a broken off limb used as a crude club hits where you had been seconds before and splinters the wood. You hear a wail of rage as you fall again, but this time you focus enough on what’s below you to reach out and grab a thinner branch. You think you’re approaching the ground as the trees are starting to be decorated by large glowing plants you hadn’t seen so far up. You really appreciate the opportunity to see more, despite the green hue they make everything appear. 

You use your momentum to swing onto another branch, landing heavily and your body rolling several feet before your back hits the trunk causing you to come to a stop. You try to look for somewhere to go as you pant harshley. You’re sure you’ll feel this plenty later should you survive but right now you're filled with so much energy you don’t notice it. 

What you do focus on though is that you are now cornered as the pack surrounds you. You look around wildly to find a way to escape but quickly realize that you are at the end of the trees. No, not on the edge of the island itself, there is just a large gap between you and the trees across from you. Your attention is brought back as the leader of the pack swings in on a vine and lands heavily in front of you. 

Your eyes zero in on the deep grooves his claws leave in the bark as he crawls toward you with a monstrous growl. You don’t want that to be you.

Wait... the vines!

You look out across the open space desperately. There may not be anymore branches for you to run to but there were some far above you that provided a canopy several floors up. Maybe there were some vines you could grab and swing down to the floor on. You don’t know if they’d be willing to follow you down there. At this point you’d even be willing to just jump to the ground below in hopes that the foliage slows you down enough to not die when you hit the forest floor if that’s what you need to do to escape. 

Praising every power that could possibly be out there whether you believe in them or not, you find one. It’s a very long jump though, one you might not be able to make. But with that as your only option you shove yourself up. You back away up as far as you can on the trunk and prepare yourself as best you can. Your head snaps towards the alpha as he hisses at you, mouth wide and showing off all of his teeth in a snarl. 

When he charges you with a mighty roar you put as much strength as you can into your legs and run, launching yourself as far as you can manage and reaching near hysterically for the vine as you fall through the air. That horrible dropping sensation of dread fills you to your very soul, and all you can do is pray that you make it. 

For a horrible second, you’re sure you’re going to miss by mere inches. But when your hand finally hits the thick almost rope-like material it takes you some time to realize what happened and actually close your fist around it. Your body jerks at the momentum change so hard that it hurts your already hit right shoulder. As you start swinging you can’t help but let out a joyful laugh of relief. 

_ Oh my god, I made it, _ you think. 

But the moment is quickly crushed as your body jerks down at a sudden heavy weight and the back of your left leg erupts in pain. You shout out as you hear a sickening pop and your other arm shoots up to grab the vine as the one originally holding you burns fiercely. 

You quickly look down as there continues to be claws of pain in your leg that overshadow it, seeing that the head of the pack had lept after you and was now clawing desperately at your leg to try and hold on. As he opens his jaws to attempt to bite you as well you switch the arm holding you up. As a good kick in the face does nothing, you know you have to switch to a different tactic. Despite the pain in your somehow injured one at you moving it, you grab a knife from your belt again a slash at the beast below you. 

You manage to get in a good stab before you’re jerked oddly while swinging. You look up to see other monkeys attaching themselves to the vine above, causing it to disrupt your swing. 

With all of the weight you can see the vine begin to snap, somewhat thankful when it’s between you and the monkeys quickly dropping their way down it. You manage to look down long enough to rip your knife out of the leader's arm before the vine breaks and you’re both sent falling to the ground. 

You actually think the weight of him falling after removing the knife would have taken you with him no matter what as your whole body feels rather weak. Maybe it’s the adrenaline, fear, or the amount of effort it took to hold both you and a large creature up with one hand but you noticed how hard you were shaking since taking hold of the thick green material. 

When you see yourself tumbling toward the ground you expect to see red, dirt, and assorted plants rushing up to meet you. But instead as you grip your knife tightly in an attempt to not lose it you’re faced with a swirling black mass and then you hit cold water. 

You’re quickly swallowed up as the river rages with all of the fresh floodwater. 

* * *

You’re tumbling through the cold darkness as you’re thrown around like a rag doll in the powerful current. Everything is tilting and spinning, and you can’t tell what’s up or down without any light to signal where the surface is. 

Suddenly you’re slammed into a large mass that causes you to shout out in pain and lose all of the air in your lungs. For a second, you’re pinned roughly against the smooth and slippery surface. But as your body starts to shift and you begin to move around it against your will your mind catches up to you. You blindly reach out and try to grip at the rock, only to have your hands slip easily off. 

As you feel your legs drag harshly against the murky bottom of the river you’re able to make one last ditch attempt at safety as you shove yourself upward and break through to the surface, swinging your knife out wildly in hopes that it’ll catch the rock and anchor you. 

Shockingly, it works, and you agonizingly drag yourself up enough to see out over the river swirling around you. Though most of your body is still in the water you grip desperately as you tremble against the gritty surface and cough out water, trying to gasp in a breath at the same time. You manage to get a second of peace where your mind cries out that you’re alright. Suddenly you hear something scrape against the rock and the water on the other side explodes as the monkey mutt thrashes out at you. 

At this point you may as well be sobbing out of frustration and agony at it not being over, and actual tears might fall though you probably wouldn’t be able to tell with all the water. 

Taking your knife arm, you feel a hot surge of pure anger fill you. You are  _ tired of this. _ You hoist yourself up enough to be slightly above the mutt and without hesitation stab him through the head where you hope his brain is. Looking it in the eye as it screams in pain, your face being so close to it that you can smell its breath, you twist the knife violently. 

“Take that,  _ bitch _ .” You growl at it as you watch the light fade from it's eyes.

Satisfied immensely at your payback, you tug the knife out as the body goes limp and is swept away. You take a few seconds to pant exhaustively against the rock and shove your knife back into its belt. When what you assume is the body bumps against you under the water, it knocks your legs out from under you unexpectedly. 

You try to hold your grip on the rock and gain your footing, but it’s useless without your knife to help. You’re suddenly drowning again as if the monkey decided to give you one last 'fuck you' even in death. What are the chances, really?

As you try and orient yourself again you’re slammed into another rock, and then another. Quite like you had been with the branches earlier, you're bouncing off of one to the next. Your small amount of remaining breath is again knocked out of you and you spin around to see a black mass heading straight for your face. 

As your head slams into another rock, you’re knocked out cold.

* * *

You don’t know how long you’re out, but you’re guessing it's not long. Maybe a few seconds, only long enough for your body to subconsciously take in a big lung full of water. Trying your best to not take in anymore you think quickly and grab a knife again. 

It takes a couple of blind swings that are honestly quite dangerous, before you hit the muddy river floor, kicking up muck in your face. Closing your eyes briefly despite the fact that all of this water is dark and murky and hard to see in, you weakly attempt to start clawing your way out of the river. You dig as deeply as you can into the bed below you before quickly swinging your knife arm to root yourself in the ground before you lose your fading grip enough to go tumbling again. 

Too determined to make it out, you work quickly and pray that the river isn’t large. It takes what feels like forever, but your sense of time since waking up has likely been very skewed, so maybe it wasn’t too long at all. But then again when you're stuck under the water with no air it definitely would be an eternity. Eventually, right when you feel like giving up and being taken away to your death by the current, the ground starts to slope upwards. 

Filled with a renewed energy, you repeat your move once, twice more before you feel your hand with the knife break into open air. You throw yourself upward and gulp desperately as air fills your lungs once more. 

Moving on autopilot, you crawl the rest of the way out of the water before you collapse to the ground and start coughing up water. It’s painful, and gross, but you’d rather it be out of you. 

After it seems you’ve finished your arms give out from where you had propped yourself up and your eyes close as your face hits the ground. You don’t pass out, though you certainly feel like you deserve it at this point. But your eyes stay closed as you attempt to catch your breath with varying success. You try to take stalk of your injuries as the energy buzzing within you begins to dissipate. 

A majority of the back of your left leg feels like it’s torn apart and on fire, but with the claw marks you had basically watched that monstrosity create it doesn’t surprise you. Your body feels battered, and while you still somehow by some miracle didn’t break anything as far as you are aware, you know you’re going to be black and blue all over for days. Your lungs and neck hurt from all the abuse they've suffered. Your head is throbbing and pounding in a completely different way than it had during the dehydration, and you think you might feel an open cut near your hairline where you had hit that rock. Though in your rush for survival earlier you hadn’t realized what had happened to your shoulder, you could easily understand it now. As the deep aching pain travels through your arm and down your body you realize that with the repeated trauma you had dislocated it. And while you risk nerve damage setting it on your own without help, you know it’ll have to be done. You can’t just go all Game without one arm and this much pain. Besides, you're technically a medical professional. 

You weakly try to push your trembling body up with your useful left arm, unconsciously cradling your injured right one to your chest. When your arm gives out on you you grunt as you face plant into mud again. You huff in frustration before trying again, this time able to raise yourself a few inches and hover there as you try to get the rest of your beaten body to function. You tell yourself to suck it up, you had been injured far worse than this and functioned before. After the particularly bad full body beatings you had even gone out in public and done everything you normally did. No one had noticed anything wrong, or maybe they did and they just didn’t care enough to do anything about it. 

You let out a weak laugh as a thought crosses your mind, though it borderline sounded like a sob to your ears as you feel tears fall down your face. Whether they be from the pain, the amusement, or the relief at still being alive you don’t think you’ll ever be able to tell. 

“I found-” You start victoriously, “-the goddamn river….. _Finally_!” 

With a breathless laugh you shift onto your back and stare up above you as you giggle loopily. As you try to control yourself, you hook the knife back into its sheath. You'll have to clean them later for sure, as well as your face and clothes apparently. Looking down you see you had managed to make it with all three of them still on your person thanks to some thoughtful choices. Finally able to push yourself into a sitting position you shrug off your backpack to see if all of your other items had made it through the harrowing journey. You almost shout out in joy when you see they had made it and were all still dry thanks to the waterproof and correctly sealed covering. Though by this point your bread and fruit are looking a little worse for wear.

You sigh in relief, how lucky are you?

Taking a deep breath, you hoist yourself up enough to crawl on your one hand and knees to the nearest tree. Using it heavily for support, you make your way to a standing position. You turn so your weight is focused near the non-injured arm. 

“Not the best place.” You mumble to yourself under your breath, “But it’s all I got.”

With that you take a second to prepare yourself and think through the different ways to relocate your arm on your own. You decide on going with one of the methods you had used often, and even used on yourself before. You take your arm from where it was curled and shift it so the upper arm is flush against your body with your elbow flexed and your forearm lying relaxed at a 90 degree angle out in front of it. Next you gently rotate the humerus externally until you feel that telltale resistance. Trying to take deep breaths through the pain and keep your body as still and relaxed as possible, you move your upper arm internally before continuing to rotate the arm in the same direction till it’s almost back to where it was cradled before. 

You bite down on your lip as you hear a pop and let out a muffled groan of pain, eyes clenched shut as tears fill them. Your body reacts instinctively by hunching over in an attempt to protect it's injured area from gathering more pain.

“ _Fuck_.” You hiss out, taking deep breaths to work yourself through it. 

After the pain of relocation subsides, it feels much better than it had before. Though you know it’ll take time for the ache to disappear fully, you’ll have to keep an eye on it. You hope you have been able to do it well enough that you won’t get any lasting nerve damage. If you had broken something or torn the muscles or the rotator cuff and done that you would most likely be in more pain right now and probably need surgery to correct it should you get out. But it didn’t feel like that was the case, so you hope it’s true. Though your pain tolerance has become high enough that you don’t necessarily always trust yourself to be able to judge injuries well enough. You’d seen grown ass men weep during some of the same things you'd been through, and that was just one injure when you had functioned on many serious ones at one time, so that's not always the best tell. 

“Kocher’s method almost always works.” You mumble exhaustedly as you slide down the tree truck, making sure to avoid your tender shoulder. 

You’ll have to do some basic exercises later to keep the muscles working like they should, but right now you just feel like you need a nap. Though your buzz is almost completely faded, you doubt you’ll be able to sleep for quite a while. Not with the night you just had and the fact that it happened because you had fallen asleep in the first place. 

You crack your eyes open and stare out as the tumbling river. Even with those water purifying tablets it would probably be best to boil any water you get from it. You don’t even want to think about just how dirty it is and how many micro bacteria were floating around in there. It would probably disgust you if you knew. 

But that thought makes alarm shoot through you. 

“Shit!” You swear, having forgotten about your leg somehow. Just remembering it seemed to make the pain rush in, despite having it there in the background the whole time. 

You hoist yourself back over to your bag and gently move your leg to examine it. The marks were deep and seeing them made your heart drop. Though it’s probably useless you take your water jug and some bandages out, trying your best to grit your teeth and clean the wound with clean water while also not wasting too much. Then without any other option, you wrap it up in unused bandages and apply pressure as best you can in an attempt to stop the bleeding. 

“Fucking water.” You mumble darkly. With your wound exposed to it and all that dirt for so long, not to mention what might have been on the claws that caused the wound, you pray it doesn’t get infected. But with no real way to clean and treat it you’ll just have to do the best with what you have. 

You peak at the wound periodically to assess the blood flow, happy to see it gradually ceasing. 

“Well that’s going to need stitches.” You say bluntly, not thinking about it as it passes through your lips. You frown, unfortunately you don’t have that either. You’re just shit out of luck now, aren't you? 

As you glare uselessly over at the river you decide maybe you should try to cheer up. You feel horrible, especially now that you’ve officially crashed down from your high. You sniff and look down at the ground somewhat dejectedly. You’re sure that little stunt was meant to kill you. They had probably had a cannon ready for you and everything. You try to feel proud that the only way they could get you was while you were sleeping and that you had put up such a good fight that they had eventually decided against it. But you can’t. You just feel tired, and in pain. 

Might as well try and lighten the mood a bit. 

“When I was sick from that tracker jacker attack,” you start out, “do you want to know what I remember the most clearly during that time?”

“Most would probably say the visions.” You admit. “And I do remember those. But above all else there was one thing that provided me unimaginable comfort while my body was fighting itself.” 

You pause for a second, remember it well. Maybe they thought you were just doing it to let them wonder, but it was mostly for you. You can hear the echo of it now, silently soothing your soul. 

“... I felt someone holding my hand, and I heard singing, humming.” You whisper. 

“Do you remember doing that for me, Jimin?” You ask weakly, feeling emotion build up in you. You refuse to cry again, holding the tears back. “I loved it when you would sing to me. You used to do it all the time, especially when I was sick or not feeling well. You used to dance for me too.”

You shakily reach up to run a hand through your hair, wincing as you brush near the spot on your forehead that was probably swollen and bruised by now. You tenderly ghost your fingers over it trying to analyse the bump and the cut it showcased. It didn’t absolutely need stitches, but that sure would help. You shakily reach into your bag and fix it up like you had done for your leg earlier. 

As you worked you continued quietly. “I miss your singing, your dancing. You haven’t done it since before your Games….”

You trail off in thought. “I guess that makes sense. Why would you want to do it anymore after everything that happened? I get that…. I do. But I think I’ll always hope that one day you’ll start again. Even if you were to do it just to sing to me one last time, I’d cherish it like the gift it would be.”

You think it’s a little hypocritical of you to be so hurt by it. You yourself had done the same thing before, and still do it. Now that you’re here and experiencing your own horror show, you can definitely understand why he wouldn’t have the desire to do such things anymore. 

“It’s alright, Min.” You promise softly. “I'm not saying it to make you feel bad, which I know is how you're probably responding right now. I understand. I forgave you for it a long time ago.”

You sit in silence for quite a while, building up your strength after that whole mess of an ordeal. 

“I guess I should do something useful if I’m not going to sleep tonight.” You say cheerily, though you don’t feel that way inside. “I’m pretty sure I have a little while till dawn anyway, not that I’ll be able to tell here.”

So instead of staying stuck in this headspace you decide to get to work.

* * *

You do a lot in the next few hours of the day. You drink the rest of your remaining water and eat some of your alien fruit. Considering you hadn't ended up with any reaction from the fuzzy yellow berries all night you assume it’s been enough time to pass them as edible too. You’ll have to find more of both of them once you feel up to moving. 

After that you set about purifying your new water source until it’s safe to drink. Unfortunately while you end up waiting for that with food in your belly and your thirst quenched, you end up accidentally falling asleep when your exhaustion really catches up to you. 

When you open your eyes again you are disoriented, momentarily forgetting everything that had happened mere hours ago. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep with a new head injury you were supposed to be monitoring. Not only was it unsafe because people could have come up to you while you were out, but if your injury was worse and you had a concussion you could have never woken up from that. Since you had found enough wood and spent time shaving off the outside to start a small fire in order to boil and purify your water you had also left the fire unattended. And that could have gone very badly as well, despite the damp surroundings. If the Gamemakers had really wanted you dead they would have had the fire consume you, they didn’t have to follow the rules of nature here. You could have been killed or stolen from in a million ways with that dumb mistake.

You realize though as anger fills you and you take a moment to observe your surroundings that you hadn’t woken up on pure chance. You see a silver silk parachute looking practically like it melted onto the forest floor a few feet away from you. Though you stare suspiciously for a second, eventually your mind catches up with you and you’re stumbling towards it. You pull the beautiful cloth up and away to reveal the small package tied underneath it. Shakily, excited at what you might have been given and not able to guess right now with your still sleep hazy mind, you open the package. 

Inside you find quite the assorted amount of sterilized needles and certainly way too much medical thread. You had honestly forgotten you had even made that comment out loud, but they had heard you and they had supplied. Rather quickly at that. You gently take it out into your hands, holding it as if it were precious. Which it really was at this point.

“Thank you.” You whisper gratefully. To your mentors and the people who had paid for such a thing. You were surprised to get a gift at all, much less one this early. Despite how everyone was so enthralled by you before entering the Game you were sure that you not doing much since it started had ruined your chances at a sponsor gift. You had been prepared to tough it out, but now that you think about it that most likely would have ended very badly, so you really appreciate it. 

Not seeing it at first, you notice a small note underneath. 

‘Keep up the good work. - N&Y’ it said. 

_The good work?_ You think flabbergasted. You had just thought that you had done next to nothing, so what do they mean by that? When you think about it, maybe they were referring to surviving the mutt attack. But you had just done your best like anyone would do so you doubt that's it. It wasn’t skill that helped you survive, it was more like luck. Though that may have been the factor that set off the donations heavily since it quickly became obvious you needed some form of medical treatment. 

You hadn’t showcased a lot of your survival, medical, or fighting skills compared to the amount you had stored up in your head. So they weren’t providing it because they had seen how capable you were and wanted to support you. What did you have that was unique compared to the others? That people wanted to keep seeing and were willing to pay for? You nearly facepalm when you realize.

Your love story. You had been talking to the audience and Jimin almost constantly, keeping them intrigued. Any spare moment you had you filled the silence with your silly stories and thoughts. Apparently it was working, and people liked it. Enough for you to get medical equipment when you really needed it. 

Leaving the rest of the unneeded material from the sponsorship behind you quickly set to work on your wounds. You decide to do the one on your head first, knowing it would take less time. Besides, it will feel far better fixing this than your leg will. You have to use one of your clean knives as a makeshift mirror as you stitch yourself up. You gnaw gently at your bottom lip to distract yourself, but all in all it didn’t hurt too bad. You do however have to grit your teeth and bite your tongue as you stitch up your own leg. Despite the pain and the odd positions than normal that you had to use for both, your hand was ever steady. If there was one thing you could do it was stitch someone up, whether that be someone else or yourself. When you take a few seconds to sit back and breathe after you’ve finished you admire your sutures, they were some of the nicest you’ve done honestly. 

Afterwards you wrap things again with a bandage, this time checking for any signs of infection in the wounds. At this point it is too hard to tell and could likely go either way. You’ll just have to keep an eye on that too. 

You spend the rest of the day resting, as you have enough resources to last you for the next day at least and your body has given you the sign that it probably couldn’t handle anything else at the moment. Tomorrow you plan to move as much as you are able, and your goal will be to search for any useful ingredients as well as attempt to gain more forms of food. You hadn’t wanted to take the trip down to the ground and gather resources without a good reason previously, but now that you’re down here you really need to take advantage of it. 

You hear one cannon shot near the end of the day, but as you know you can’t climb back up to the treetops not only with your fresh wound but because you don’t know if you’re willing to brave them again, you resolve yourself to not know who died today. Should you be curious you could figure it out later or even watch the Game back if you get home. There are 13 of you left. You’re a bit shocked that they’ve managed to keep up a kill count of at least one per day. There’s either a lot of fighting going on that you aren’t aware of or the Arena is deadly. There’s normally times in every Game where no one dies for a day or two, and in the longer Games it can happen a few times. 

You’ve noticed the crowd's opinion had shifted while Vivieene was in charge. Normally them killing so many people off via the Arena would cause outrage, as they love watching us kill each other. But with all of Vivieene’s crazy Arenas people have been thirsting for more. They want to see what new ways she can make our surroundings so crazy and dangerous that they kill us in creative and brutal ways. Of course, it probably helps that she peppers in some actual fighting and killing between Tributes here and there. It seemed like she had figured out the perfect balance in her years holding the job. You wonder if once she’s gone it will go back to normal again or if eventually people will get tired of it. 

You find a good spot to stay, covered by foliage and hidden in between the roots of one of the giant trees. Curling up to sleep again your tired body is practically begging for it. Before you do though you continue your ritual at your mentor’s previous request of course. 

“I haven’t really told you much about me since the interview, have I?” You ponder. “Hmm, I bet you’re curious.”

“What’s the place you’ve always wanted to visit?” You inquire sleepily. You pause, imagining what those you know might answer to such a question. 

“I don’t really talk about this much, but I love the idea of being able to travel.” You admit. “I want to be able to experience so many places. See the beauty and the hardships of every District. I want to be able to say I’ve seen what the world has to offer. And I want to be able to share that knowledge and love with others, somehow.”

“...But there is one place I’ve always wanted to go above all else…” You murmur quietly. Your body is quickly becoming numb and you can tell you’re starting to fall asleep

“It may sound stupid, but I’ve always been fascinated with the ocean. I’ve always loved water, whether that be a still lake or a raging river. Even a thunderstorm. I find it all calming and especially breathtaking. And the ocean is the biggest representation of that. I’ve only read about it. I’m sure it's stunning.”

“I wanted to see it before I die.” You whisper. “Mmm, guess that may not happen now. I had always hoped I could go see it with you, Jimin.”

You hadn't necessarily meant to admit any of it in that way, as now that it had slipped out you realize how upsetting that could be to those that know and care about you. It sounded like you didn't think you would make it, but that's not necessarily true. You should fix that, say something. 

But after a long silence where you can’t bring yourself to open your eyes again, you drift off with a last, “Goodnight, J‘min.”

* * *

You wake up on your fifth day feeling energized and ready to keep moving. Of course, it all goes a lot slower now that you have to take it easy on your leg, but you still manage to do quite a lot. You stick relatively close to the nasty green looking river. You gather all the fruit you can from the two sources you know are safe and even set up a few traps using pieces of them as bait. 

You fix more water before you leave, grateful you had been given the ability to fill up the entirety of your gallon jug. You didn’t think you would ever get to the point of accessing that much water this whole time. 

You stick close to the river and observe the natural wildlife for signs that could help you. Not only does it make you excited at the idea of maybe being able to catch some of the critters for food, but you can learn from the things they use. You find some different roots and herbs that the animals don’t shy away from. You’ll have to test them a bit, but when you break open a few of them they have a smell that reminds you of the things you use in medicines back home. Deciding to test them out just a bit you find one that seems to make you sleepy and another that soothes your stomach. While they may look alien the idea that they disguised useful things that you recognize in this way makes you hopeful. A different herb helps numb the pain of your wounds. You stock up on all of them. 

You hear another cannon shot mid-day, twelve of you left alive. Though you feel far better today, you’re alright with not seeing the Tribute again. You don’t think you can make it up to the treetops and you have no idea how far you are from the edge of the island. If you’re being honest with yourself you’re still too afraid to go up there. 

When you pick your spot to settle down for the night you take the time to make yourself a spear out of the long stick you had been using to help you walk throughout the day. You don’t necessarily need the stick, you’re not that injured, but it has helped. You take the time to attempt fishing while it’s still lighter outside, and while you’re not the best at it you do get one decent sized fish. 

You find wood and shave it till it’s dry enough to start a low fire, cooking your fish over the flames and fixing new water at the same time. You’ll check your traps tomorrow, and maybe look for more plants to use now that you sort of know what to look for. Maybe you can even catch and cook some more fish, knowing that practice makes perfect. You won’t be able to store the fish meat for later, as it’ll go bad quickly here, but it may last a little while and your gathered plants will cover the rest. 

You’ve actually enjoyed being one with nature despite the circumstances, as it's always something you’ve liked to do when you had the time. Maybe that just comes from the culture or being in District 11 to begin with, but it helps put you at ease. You don’t know if you prefer sleeping under the tree roots or in the branches high above. Both living spaces offer their own pros and cons, so unique from each other despite being in the same habitat. 

“You know, I’ve thought a bit about what I might want to do as a hobby should I make it back home.” You say. 

“There’s a lot of things I like to do, but I don’t know if I’d want to try and make a career out of. It really does take a lot of thought, how the rest of you chose yours I really don’t know.” You admit, thinking about all your friends and their hobbies. They all seemed wholly devoted to and enjoyed their activity, or in some cases activities, thoroughly. “I just don’t know if I have that in me I guess.”

“Well why don’t you help me think about it?” You suggest, despite knowing that's nowhere near what would be happening here. It’s more like you’ll just say your thoughts out loud and it will maybe help you come to more of a decision. 

“Hmm, we already know that I like healing, but I’ve already made a career out of it so I can’t really do anything there.” You say. “What else do I like to do?”

Hoseok dances, and while you thoroughly enjoy that it’s a talent that the rest of the people outside District 11 don’t know about. You were quite into gymnastics and ribbon dancing. It was something you did often at festivals and celebrations, something that had been passed down as a tradition for years. There were a lot of people that hid things similar to that simply because you didn’t want what little you held on to of your culture from the world before to be smothered. It’s also the reason you keep things like speaking your native languages quiet. You don’t feel like telling them about it. 

Yoongi produces, and Namjoon sometimes does too when he borrows his equipment, but you have no interest in that. Sure, you used to enjoy singing, but you haven’t done it in such a long time. Jeongguk is a video diretor, and while you enjoy that it’s not completely what you want. Taehyung is a fashion designer and Jimin models, but that is probably the least interested you are in the list of hobbies so far. You support them and everything they do, but you could never do that. You don’t know how they can stand it most of the time. 

Seokjin cooks, and while you can you don’t necessarily love it. You’re far more of an eat to live person than a live to eat one. Namjoon writes and records things like stories or radio shows. He particularly loves the philosophical and enjoys sharing his knowledge with everyone that way. He'll even do some.episodes where he read what little books we have at out disposal, though there aren't many as that was another thing the Capitol took from us long ago. And while it is soothing to experience, you don’t think you have the talent for words like he did. You also have no desire to talk that much ever. This is the most you’ve probably ever talked in a span of time, especially about yourself and your life. You don’t want to continue. 

“I really like Jeonggukie’s videos.” You admit. “But that’s not entirely what I want to do.” 

Something along those lines then. 

“Oh!” You realize. “What if I could travel? I did say I wanted to share it with others. Maybe I could vlog it?”

It seemed like a good option, though it still isn’t right. Too much talking and person to person contact. 

“What about…… photography?” You wonder. Yes, that sounds like it would fit. You could experience it all and show it to others through your point of view. It would be similar to taking videos or vlogging, but with less contact with others. And you wouldn’t really have to talk or explain anything, it would just be left up to the eye of the consumer. 

You smile excitedly. “That’s definitely the one. Good job everyone, you figured it out.”

You almost laugh at how ridiculous this whole thing is. 

“I think it’s probably time to go to bed if I’m trying to have conversations with people that aren’t here to say anything.” You say to yourself in amusement. 

As you tuck yourself in you fiddle with your locket that had made its way out into the open. Without really thinking about it you give it a quick kiss and say, “Goodnight, Jimin.” 

You sleep probably the most comfortably you’ve been all Game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, listen. I'm not saying I know how to write a fight scene. But I'm pretty proud of that. Man you guys sure are badass. Who doesn't want to feel like that sometimes though?
> 
> Tell me how you're feeling and I'll see you next week!


End file.
